Ode to the Naariyal Paani guy.

This is an ode; not to the fat old man who sells coconuts right outside my hostel, but to a BEAUTIFUL (and I do mean beautiful) foreign exchange student I saw one day on my way to class gracing the coconut stall. I wrote this in German class while battling Schlaff, so forgive the bad rhyming.

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I saw your face amongst the fronds,

My heart it did leaps and bounds.

I willed myself to not act too friendly,
You were busy sipping some naariyal paani.

Days and days passed me by,

But I saw you not, I heaved many a sigh.

I contemplated putting up a spycam et al,

Hoped to catch you at the coconut stall.

Then my spirits that seemed so tragic,

Soared one day in a class of Logic.

No one watched you walk by but me,

As I revived my stalker-plans with glee.

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I realise I look like an utterly unemployed stalker in this, but I really am not this creepy. Let's just say I wrote this in furtherance of my art; poetic licence, shall we say?

Playing God

Being God must be a tough job. How do you decide, for instance, that it is time to take the life of a vivacious young 17 year-old girl, who just finished school and looked upon her future with uncertain yet excited eyes, knowing not what it would bring her?

Two days ago, a friend of a friend, Niranjana, passed away in a road accident. I knew nothing more of her than the occasional pop-up on my Facebook homepage, and yesterday morning my friend messaged me asking me to pray for her soul to rest in peace.

She was my age - an age when death is a foreign word - a word that we sadly acknowledge when grandparents pass away, but one that seems almost incomprehensible when its to do with us. Right now, the future looms large and bright, we're at the threshold of a whole new life - college. It seems so unfair that Niran was robbed of this. How does God, if he exists, decide who gets this future and who is deprived of it? What did I do that Niranjana didn't? Why am I alive, and Niranjana dead?

I feel guilt that I do not cry for her, and that her death (it's such an ugly word) was the reason I first visited her Facebook page, where at least a hundred people had shared their grief at her passing. If such a thing as heaven exists, and she is looking down upon us, I'm sure she'd be overwhelmed at how much she was truly loved. But I do feel a heavy sadness, and a bristling anger at the incomprehensibility of it all. She was just a regular teenager! With hopes, and dreams, just like the rest of us! HOW is it fair that she was killed in a road accident, when so many lesser people continue to live on blissfully?

Confused ramblings these are, but they have only further enforced my belief that God doesn't exist. Or that he takes a sadistic pleasure in messing with our lives like this.

Songwriter's Block?

I've been a bathroom singer since I was about ten, you know the type, the kind of kid who gets transformed into this glamorous pop diva (it used to be pop, then metamorphosized into an RnB singer, a grunge goddess, a wannabe Sunidhi Chauhan...) once the bathroom door is shut safe behind her. So my parents have heard me wailing through the door all my growing up years, but I always refused to sing in public. My dad would call on me to sing in almost EVERY family function we've had (and there have been many), and I would refuse every time, which would lead to this little staring contest between us till he gave up. But anyway, I digress.

I finally screwed up my courage and decided to go on-stage in a little intra-school competition last year, and then one thing led to another and then I was part of a BAND! This was amazingly exciting to me because it felt like all my bathroom-pop-diva dreams had come true and I might actually get to do a stage dive sometime in my life.

Well, we're really not good enough for me to do a stage dive yet (or ever), but as soon as I joined, the role of lyricist was thrust upon me.

Now we're a rock band, right, and upon research of rock bands I realized that the ingredients of a good rock song more often than not fell into the categories of:

• Heartbreak (E.g. - Broken - Seether, Right Here Waiting - Staind)
• Unresolved father-daughter issues (Hurt - Christina Aguilera)
• Sex, drugs, booze. (Under the Bridge - RHCP, Animals - Nickelback)
• Unintelligible, yet genius (Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana, Toxicity - SOAD)
• Really deep emotional things (Lithium - Evanescence, Epiphany - Staind)

Here's the thing - I'm 17. I haven't done drugs, booze or had sex. My father and I have a completely unremarkable boring relationship - nothing song-worthy. And okay, I'll just say this out loud. I'm NOT deep. I do not really spend nights looking at the stars wondering how insignificant our tiny planet is in comparison to the vast vast galaxy. Or about world peace. Or anything beyond my life and my friends actually. I'm quite self-absorbed you might say.

And heartbreaks? Sure I've had them, which girl hasn't? But I'm not about to write a song showing the entire world (or okay, my band and the ten or so people who've actually heard us) how I felt about him, or him, or him either! I like my privacy, thanks.

So as I chew my pencil for inspiration for the next legendary rock song, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my first blogpost in over a year.

Love :)

Just to remind you I'm alive

I haven't posted for so long I nearly forgot the URL of my blog! Can I blame it on Class XII? Not really, I wish I'd studied enough so I could. Anyway, this post is just to PROMISE you that I have two new posts lined up that I will perfect and publish as SOON as my Boards end - i.e., a month. Thank you for all the love on "Different", the criticism was really helpful too (MumDD :).
That's about it for this post, come back on 1st April :).

Back to Physics I go. *sigh*.