Perceptions schmerptions.

I think I ate my inner punk rock star. Ok not really… Duh. But either way, it’s gone. I kinda imagined my style statement to be sorta emo-punk-meets preppy-diva. You know, with wild hair and attitude to match. Behenji-gets-accquainted-with-flared-jeans? No, not so much. Somehow mild-mannered EC student by day, manic depressive by night, wasn’t quite the dazzling future I had in mind.

Lately I’ve been wondering about all of us, and our perceptions of us. Who am I? Who or what decides what a person is or isn’t? (Waddaya know? Megalomania and manic depression. Yes folks, I am the perfect woman. The line forms to my left. No pushing. And no, I won’t hold my breath waiting.)

So a friend, whose opinion matters a lot to me, told me the other day that I wasn’t as independent as I claimed to be. This got me thinking. See, I’ve always prided myself on being self-sufficient, self-reliant, one of ‘em Destiny’s Child-esque Independent Woman. Reflecting on my friend’s not so well received comment, I got to wondering. Who does decide who you get to be? Yesterday I would’ve said “Me! ME!!” Now I’m not sure. Come on, everyone of us is a little delusional. (Obviously, some more than others) I used to think I’d be this bad-ass biker chick with leather pants, the Harley, the open road and bugs in my teeth... the whole shebang... (For some reason, I’d always be blonde in the daydream… Hey, I was 10 and admittedly, not that bright =D) Truth is, I’d rather bake than bike and my idea of a perfect vacation includes sun, sand and some brightly colored fruity concoctions. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love zooming down a highway with the wind in my hair and my foot on the accelerator. So does that make me thrill-seeking speed junkie or spoiled hedonistic brat? Like I said before, who decides?

Oscar Wilde said ‘Some people are other people’. (Well, he also said,” Crying is the refuge of the plain. Pretty people go shopping’. That doesn’t mean I reach for my MasterCard every time I get yelled at. I like to assume that I’m pretty. My blog, my delusions) But it was really apt for what I was feeling. How much of us is ‘other people’? How much of our attitude is defined by another person? How much of it is triggered by our obsessive need for approval or in some cases, disapproval? How much do we suppress for fear of being rejected? What’s the point?

I’m not half of the free-spirited wild thang I’ve wanted to be. But if there’s one thing I learnt in the past few years, it’s the capriciousness of the human mind. I learnt that no matter what you do, how nice you are, or how you look, people will bitch. About you. Behind your back, in you face, at a 45 degree angle, whatever. And it’s not worth trying to be those ‘other people’ just to gain acceptance. That I learnt the hard way. I guess the best thing we can do is deal and get used to it.

Here’s to dealing.

Sheryll and the Traffic Police - A Merry Adventure

Those *&^%@#% took away my license.

The title of this entry was supposed to be "My fun day at Leela Palace" but alas, because of certain beer bellies in brown, it was not meant to be.

The scene: Three well-dressed girls riding home in nice car after super fun boy/boyfriend-free day spent roaming around and intense picture-taking at Leela Palace

The characters: 3 super-fly girls (Hey.. my story.. humor me ok? please?), two bored/frustrated/insert-expletive-here traffic cops, one cell phone

The time: 5 30 PM, 14th Feb 2008 (Yes, i'm ranting a month late. Im lazy. Get over it)

The 'crime': Attending to phone call while driving

The penalty: Rs 1100/- (OK so my insurance papers died as well.. but ELEVEN HUNDRED???)

The outcome: Not nearly enough cash in wallet, hence resulting in confiscation of license till the fine is paid.

And then??: I had to bring my folks the next day, drive ALL the way to THAT police station, pay the fine and THEN when i asked for a receipt, was informed that getting a receipt would take THREE days (yes, coz they'll have to find someone and confiscate a pen too) and to come on Monday evening that is, IF i still wanted the receipt i.e. Policeman code for 'Check it out.. it's goin in my pocket and u cant do anything about it.. nyaaa nyaa'. Aah to know that my safety is in the well-oiled hands of such upstanding paragons of virtue. Joy.

I tell you. The ninth circle of hell is full of them corrupt cops and.. and.. and.. AUTO drivers!!!! They are truly evil.. necessary.. but evil.. with their SUPPOSED mono-lingual-ness(?), seriously tampered super fast meters (One kept on running.. even when the auto STOPPED!! True story) and ridiculous bumper stickers ("I date only models??? Love is sweet poison??? Hai Premalata??) But i have a plan. I will get my revenge I suggest we get them all together and shoot them. Not to kill, just wound so it hurts really bad and then NOT take them to the hospital unless they pay one and half (times the fare.. on the already tampered meters) Cue evil laugh.. MUHUHUHAHAHAHA ha. snicker..

Tea and Cake, or Death!

So I'm on a diet.

Love the day just before the start of one. So full of hope and faith that this time around I will actually lose the weight, everyone will love me, and there will be world of peace and happiness wherein people will gather around every fireplace/bonfire/burning-house/witch-burning-at-stake, clasp hands and sing Kumbaya. Kinda like New Year's Eve. HATE the third day of diet, which is like the 15th or so of January when you realize that you're not going to get skinny, people will still hate you, there will not be world peace and yes, Britney Spears will prance around with no clothes, hit everything in her path and STILL manage to conjure up a new car everyday (Ok, so I watch E! news. Sue me). And also that yes, you're still very hungry. TEA AND CAKE, OR DEATH! I love Eddie Izzard. He's so bizarre. Shivonne introduced me to his comedy clip thingies on youtube. Its soo super funny (waddaya know... my first product placement. YAY ME! I’m a Bollywood movie!)

I only just realized that this is my first journal entry of the year (of the year? or in the year?? Oh where is Wren and Martin when u need it? I remember when we'd cover tat book with really ugly sticking paper. White with orange flowers... no less) I learnt a lot of things last year- tat no matter what happens, I'll never end up old and living with six cats (I'm allergic) and that contrary to popular belief, studying for an exam is more important than carol singing and showing off newly acquired toe-socks. And also that yes, other than my very erm… fresh potato salad of yesteryears, I can cook. Here’s to learning new things in 2008. Happy New Year y’all!

10 Things I Learnt From The Movies

Everybody knows that movies make fantastic entertainment…but can they also make good teachers? Ladies and gentlemen, boy, girls and everything in between, settle down. School’s now in session.These are the top 10 things we can learn from the movies.
1. All the important events in your life will happen in slow motion.
2. If you are a mother and live in poverty, you are automatically qualified for saint-hood.
3. The “big man on campus” comes to college standing on TWO moving motorcycles..
everyday.
4. If you are in the ethnic minority, you are killed before the interval.
5. When you fall in love, you will get a wonderful singing voice and everyone, yes, EVERYONE will know the words.
6. There are people who live in public parks who, on sight of a couple, will leap out of random bushes and dance in sync until the couple leaves. They are recognized by their choice of clothing which is often in pink, yellow, purple spandex (or occasionally all three) accompanied by feathers and/or sequins.
7. If you are rich and oppose the couple in love, then you are a drug dealer.
8. Bad guys have only two looks:
a. Super slick in black leather
b. Ranjnikant wannabes in acid wash jeans, long curly hair and dirty sneakers.
9. Combat is always one-on-one. The other bad guys will dance around in a circle and patiently wait their turn. Also the sight of one’s blood gives him the strength of fifteen body builders.
10. The good guy always wins in the end. Even if he’s out numbered 10 to 1. However, if the good guy participates in a contest, irrespective of his winning or losing, he always gets the ‘slow applause’. And everyone knows that that’s worth more than the cash prize.
So next time you go to the movies, remember that there’s more to it than fluff and Abhishek Bachchan. Until next time, school’s out y’all!

Von-Trapped!!

So I got a hair cut recently.. U know.. a new look and all that.. So I walked into the hairdresser's with a sense of adventure and mild trepidation... and walked out looking unfortunately like Maria VonTrapp. Between fighting the urge to run around singing about the hills tat are alive with the sound of music and sewing matching clothes for all the neighborhood kids, I try to comfort myself saying tat looks don't really matter. But then again.. who am I kidding? Marilyn Monroe wasn't exactly known for her dissertations on the works of Kafka now was she? Sigh. However, in spite of all the bad haircuts tat cloud my past, I am confident that the perfect haircut is out there somewhere.. and when we meet, the music will swell and angels will sing 'Hallelujah' (although I could settle with Right Said Fred's 'I'm too Sexy') But until then, I shall be of good cheer. After all, hair grows.