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Hangman's noose - LiveJournal.com
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Farewell
Bye bye world :)
Find me here
Loungers Uniting
Woman? Proud, dignigified, with a thirst to change the world? Lady? Want to share your experiences in life with the world? Writer? With a passion for words, and have something to say? Maybe Martini Lounge is the place for you.
Write. Edit. Representate. Photograph. Design. Support.
The Lounge is a community by women for women with a mission to unite women all over the world. We write, we create, we design. We talk, we chat, we unite.
If you want to be part of this wonderful community, hop on over to Martini Lounge, have a look around, read the article, join the forums and do consider joining up as part of the staff. You'll love it :)
(And do say that you were referred to M-L by me, Sanjana in the form :) )
Beginning of the end
On July 11th, 2003, I began what was to become Hangman's Noose.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92) supersam5 was darling enough to give me an invite (those were in those days when LJ needed an invite) after I pestered him for three, perhaps four days.
At that time I had just shut down my website and if you read through that entry, you'll see that I had expressed a fond hope of re-opening one again sometime later.
I have now. It's here
Livejournal has been a better part of my life for almost four years now. In the beginning I used to b***h and whine about people I know in real life interspersing random bits of philosophy however odd and naive it was. I met a pair of evil twins in my head who ended up being my muses. angiasaa left comments longer than my posts, notably on this one. That was loads of fun though. Kudos Jim. And you still haven't explained what kaydeeoh means to me ;)
I've despised (another thinly veined attack at someone I know in RL) I've cried, I've jumped up and down in glee;). I've exulted, I've gotten kicked in the balls!. I've liked, I've written, I've
pondered. I went through periods of despair, madness and I've even zoomed off in a fighter plane
I was one crazy chica!
Dreaming, travelling, questioning my beliefs...all run of the mill for my 17 year old self. Inbetween, I've cried, I've despaired, I've wondered where my life was heading. I've got into shit about this blog, I've alienated people because of it, and I have written elegies for good friends. LJ was a major part of my life for four whole years (although the last two dont really bear mentioning because it basically consisted of wishing people happy birthday (bah!) and writing about the random crappage which was my life. My seventeen year old self completely disappeared, mores the pity!)
I think I might have discovered her again. But LJ was not part of that process.
And so I made a decision. Three blogs is just too much for me to handle.
Sorry angiasaa. You were kinda right.
I've decided. Since July 11th was when I started this here blog, July 11th shall be a fitting end. I've backed up all my entries. I've relived the last four years of my life. I've gone a little crazy.
I'll continue writing for another month. Then bye bye bloggie.
(Not really. I shall continue to write at both Unprettiful and Misfit. I shall continue to update Der Pikliger Eindringling. But the Lj chapter of my life shall soon come to an end.
It's just a little bit sad.
So keep an eye out for me till July 11th. I'll be missing you guys :)
Mothers Day
The latest entry in Post Secret really got me thinking.
Mothers are fantastically under-rated. She's always the woman in the background, who goes nag nag nag, who tries to shove down nutritious food down your throat, who doesn't let you leave the house until you've showered, eaten your breakfast and combed your hair. She's the one who anxiously comes and asks, "Do you think this dress makes me look fat?" who comfort-eats when she is depressed, who jumps to your defense when confronted with angry dragon dad, who allows you to do things you want, as long as you dont go beyond a limit. She's the one who taught you math, who sat and pain-stakingly quizzed you on Geography, who broke down and cried the first time you failed Physics. Mom tries to run your life but when it doesn't work, she gracefully lets go. Mom listens to your heart aches, she soothes your pain, and every night, before going to bed she calls, "Goodnight, darling. I love you!"
Or maybe that's just my mom. Tell me about yours?
You're A Prayer for Owen Meany!
by John Irving
Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire
faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest
this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking
moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT
SOUNDS LIKE THIS!
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
HOW DID IT KNOW? Me and LOUD = synonyms!!!
Announcing...
The unseemly and ignominious death of Arth
Don't worry. I'm not off the website scene yet.
I'm now, officially, on the web atleast, a Misfit.
Which had Wordpress installed on it. JOY!
So. You can find me there from now on :D
sanjuBABA
Hee...old schools
I found the FAPS alumni group over at Orkut today.
God Fapites have gone all over the world.
Suddenly it has been reinforced to me how small we really are. In your own school, where you feel so damned self-important while you're there! It suddenly struck me that I dint even know everyone in my own batch, let alone the previous years batches or the batches following mine!
And thats only 1000 people.
God. Is anyone else feeling the teeming crush of humanity? I wonder how the world would have been back in the good old stone ages, where you dint know anyone outside your sphere of existence. Maybe life would have been a lot simpler then?
(About my previous post. Thanks for the suggestions...but I finally wrote on Hamas. It's for a speak-out column at a global magazine and sorry to those guys who suggested Bangalore traffic. It just doesn't figure in the global scheme of things...)
HELP!
Right. I need your help.
To all those reading this, come up with serious issues for me to work with. Please?
My article was supposed to be submitted last friday.
::sigh:: ::hangs head::
Please? Please? Pretty Please?
The Spectator
When I was in first year (oh those relatively innocent years :P) I did this prose piece I think by James Addison. When I was reading his biography, I read of his journal called The Spectator, where he talked away about five characters who met up at The Gentleman's Club regularly. The stories were always told from the view of the anonymous sixth character, who was referred to only as The Spectator.
This concept intrigued me and I decided to try this out as writing and character building practice. The gentleman I'm going to talk about is fictitious, of course, but bears a strong resemblance to my dear old grandfather, who lives in Madras and delights in discoursing away to me on any topic under the sun. I never used this man in any of my stories but when I read through this today, I was surprised to find that he's as close to me now as he was when I first wrote it.
So without any further ado. Presenting to you...
Always dressed impeccably, L. Krishnamurthy is one of those rare throwbacks into the British Era. Born in 1927, he was 20 years old when the British left India and the patriotic fervour everyone had at that time hadnt left him out either. Going on 78 now, that spirit is still visible in him and he speaks of his country with such pride and love that its almost refreshing to meet him, after seeing the cynicism descending upon our young minds these days.
I met Krishna in June of 2004, at the club in Cubbon Park. I was sipping a cup of coffee when he came to borrow the newspaper I had in my hand. Something caught my attention and we began talking, almost instantaneously.
We only talked for a few minutes that day, introducing ourselves and getting such technicalities out of the way. However when we kept bumping into each other at the club, we got to know each other well and that table in the garden at the clubs outdoor hotel was site for various debates and discussions ranging from politics and sports and religion.
He was a charming gentleman, speaking in excellent English. His favourite occupations were to relax with a newspaper, a hot cup of coffee by his side and discoursing away to anybody who would listen about the state of the world and what should be done to improve it. Tamilian to the core, he spoke fondly of the Madras of the yesteryears as well as Old Bangalore and his eyes would go misty as he reminisced about the small town attitude which Bangalore was known for and how it had changed and not for the better either. He was apt to give long-winded rants about the youngsters of today and tended to get carried away but he amused me and so I listened to him, for studying characters is my hobby just like talking is his.
He always wore his shirt neatly tucked into his pants and an old coat over it. It wasnt an uncommon sight to see him chattering away amiably to somebody or the other, his dark, gnarled hand gripping his cane tightly. Even his talk reminded me of the British Raj and sometimes his words would transport me to the world of the past, one of colonial bungalows, white officers in horse drawn carriages, Indian servants and freedom fighters. He was incredibly knowledgeable, knowing something about everything, and his never-ending font of knowledge never failed to amuse me.
Youngsters today, he would say, in that slightly croaky, yet deep voice of his. Don't know what theyre dealing with. There are no limits nowadays and sometimes I think that theyre going to close to the fire. You know that saying, no? he would say, apparently forgetting that I was one of those very youngsters he was talking about. I nodded, smiling slightly as he continued oblivious. Yes. Playing with fire. Thats what theyre doing.
And on the subject of cricket: Yes. The Indian team is very good. I think they might win this tournament. But they cant do that if they all depend upon only one person. He would wax on enthusiastically. Teamwork, you see. THAT is the key. One good player doesnt make a whole team, right?
He lived in Malleshwaram, in a large house he had had ever since he had moved into Bangalore, in the early 70s. He would describe it to me, with loving pride, talking about the no of rooms, the trees on the streets which he had seen grow and then he would talk about his wife and two sons, both who had grown up in Bangalore but both who had left India when they had finished their education.
I didnt want them to go, he told me once, when I brought up the topic of his family. We are Indians, I told them. We should work for India and not some other company. But they wanted to go and they both got sponsors, so I had to let them go. They were both toppers you know. Engineering. And I heard a faint note of pride in his voice and I knew that even though he was disappointed with them for leaving, he still loved them as much as he had before they had left.
What about your wife? I asked.
My wife, he said, ruminatively, Is one of those weak minded people who do not have a mind of her own. All she is worried about is jewellery and barring that, what the neighbour is doing. She is tolerable but only in small quantities.
I was about to burst with indignation but then I reminded myself that this was their life and I had no right to interfere with them. So I just shot him a pointed glare which he didnt notice because he was already talking about something else. The effect of Isreals political situation on our daily lives, I think. I had stopped listening by then, so consumed with wonder that so opinionated a man like him could put up with a woman he barely tolerated.
I kept in touch with him for around two years before I stopped going to the club and we fell out of contact. I have never yet met another man quite like him and even now I can hear his voice in the back of my head, calmly telling me that India was going to lose a war or that the youth in India were killing themselves. He was a nice man, sometimes acerbic but mostly harmless and I sometimes wonder what he is doing and whether he is still happily chatting away with someone like me about all topics, varied and sundry and I hope that he is happy, whatever he is doing.
Oh dear god
I've spent the last fifteen minutes cracking up over some guy's blog.
I'm not going to tell you whose, for wanting to prevent seeming like a dork.
Which I am, but nevertheless...
I'm such a pervy voyeur. Plus an exhibitionist. Never a good combination.
So who is volunteering to save me from myself?
::cracks up::
A laugh riot!
A thik thik thik thik thik!
God bless you Rajkumar :D
Movie Making
When asked why he never read fiction, Narayan Murthy of Infosys said this:
My life is so full of fiction, why go looking for it in books as well?
And indeed. Here's my view of life:
Lies-Exaggeration-Craziness-heroism-joy-drama-tragedy-betrayal-politics-lies-heroism-madness-drama-extreme stupidity-drugs-mobs-lynching-fury-romance-tenderness-magic-corruption-politics-exaggeration-googoogaagaa-betrayal-laughter-insanity-hallucinations.
And here's my view on yesterday's insane situation.
And finally. General yay-ness to triplies on Medhu's bike, short-films and documentaries, and the waitors in Cafe Inch.
Work
Tense. Worried. Excited. Nervous. Scared to death.
FCB Ulka here I come!
For all those who care...
My opinion/rants/reviews blog is here.
In other news, I've never, ever, ever, been this unprepared for an exam. Monday's psychology and I started yesterday. tehshazzer wanted to START on Monday which was then it was kindly pointed out to her that the EXAM was on monday!
The story of our lives!
Well, jetzt gehe ich zum deutsch unterricht.
Tschus :D
I received this comment...
I opened my mail today and I found this comment on my post:
I'm a guy in South Africa and I was looking for information regarding Yorkshire Terriers and came accross your blog.
I surfed through your site and came accross your live chat.
It offends me that you would use God's name so shamelessly in your everyday vocabulary.
I want you to stop because I'm affraid that you don't know what you are doing when you use His name in such a fashion.
It'll be like me saying something like "Oh Mohammed, my ass is burning from this hot curry." or "Oh Mo, the dog bit me."
Stay away from biblical holy figures in your daily speech, especially when cursing.
Find other words and encourage your friends and family too to refrain from using God's name.
I'll check in with you again some time later.
Bruce
+27832502422
I have some things I would like to say to that!
Firstly, God is an universal term. When I say God, I could be referring to my Gods, that is Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma, Indra, anybody! I could be referring to 'Mo' as you call him or of course, the so-called 'Christian' God. I could be referring to anything: Nature, supernatural forces anything!
Secondly, what in the world is wrong with using God in everyday vocabulary? I confess, I'm an agnostic-atheist but if you really have faith in God, don't you think using his/her/its name in daily vocab will only reinforce your faith? Will keep reminding you about God and his power and his wisdom? By isolating God from yourself, you may reinforce his divinity but you're actually losing out on personal contact with him, aren't you? Of course, that is a personal choice but let other's decide what's best for them, won't you?
WHich brings me to my next point. If this is a free forum, an uncensored area, then I can write what the HELL I want to and how I want to and when I want to. You find something wrong with it, you see that little x button on top there? Click on it!
And what's this?
I'll check in with you again some time later.
Are you going to police my blog now? No thank you!!
I have no problems with your opinions. They're yours and yours alone. But don't try to influence the way I write, and hence, think, with such ridiculous moral idealogies.
(And thanks for your phone number, btw. I'm certainly going to call you all the way from India to apologize for my vocabulary!)
Well, will you look at that?
It's me again!
I found out recently that we were expected to blog for our communicative english practicals (aren't I in a fancy course??) and I decided to get back into practice :D
I have also recently realized what it is actually like, living in a grown-up's world. I've been kidding myself, the past few years that I'm a mature, responsible person but recently, when assignments have landed in my lap that I have no means of completing, when deadlines are missed and I sit gnawing at my fingers with worry, I realized that being an adult is more than independance, more than being out till whenever you like, doing whatever you like...It is that. And more.
It's responsibility, for your actions, for your work. I've realized that once you've taken up a job, finishing it is on your head and no excuses shall be accepted!
I'm getting a wee bit afraid.
And yet, incredibly excited. There's a whole world waiting for me, a whole world to shake up and rattle, to which I can puff my chest out and point at, saying, "THIS IS ME! AND LOOK, I'M DOING SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE!" I want to show my parents that I'm not just the brainless, science drop-out who found physics and maths too tough, I want to show my brother that I'm to be taken seriously for once in my goddamned life, I want to show the world that I'm a force to be reckoned with and by god, I'm going to do it.
I don't know how or when but watch out world. Here I come!
Gosh
Hasn't it been awhile?
I've been spending the last month on a goddamned fic marathon!!! So this, my dahlings, is a rec post. ::squeals::
Things I have read this past month:
Ron/Hermione (yes vaguelyalive this is for you :D)
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