Of Things I Left Behind. #2 (Memories of Food)

Basic Requirement #1: Food.

I was having coffee with a friend back from Leeds at "Mocha-Coffee and Conversations" and guess what we did there; we had coffee and conversations. I had a great time catching up for an entire year lost without Leeds' gossip! Can you imagine how much there was to talk about?! Well, and despite that, I could not get images from Kada's Cafe out of my head. I never actually figured the way to that place and I went there a minimum of 4 times (definitely), but then I guess I was always with 'DP', so I never bothered remembering it. Anyways getting back to Kada's, I loved the Cafe Mocha they served, oh! and the carrot cake *mouth-watering* It had a very Moroccan look to it. Nice dim lights (not the stumble-and-find-your-way types), cozy sitting areas (lots of pillows), low, ornate tables and windows and most importantly a genial owner. Perfect for an intimate rendezvous. AND this was the only place open till 3am!!! That was the USP really; what with Starbucks and Cafe Nero shut by 6pm sharp!

'La Cafeteria'!! Anytime anyone felt they were in a festive mood or just wanted to randomly celebrate, this was the place for us! Outdoor seating like Cafes in Paris, indoors there were replicas of Van Gogh hanging on the walls, music instruments waiting for anyone who cared to play them. A set of games kept near the door,very welcoming ambience and a brilliant cook. Specialities of this place: Arabic pizza, Potato wedges with the most perfect salsa I've ever tried, the chocolatiest chocolate cake with ice-cream/whipped cream (Only I preferred whipped cream...oh, well!), the fruity drink (served in big, coloured glasses with coloured straws, you have to trust me on this one, it looked beautiful) and the chocolate drink with whipped cream and marshmallows (Yuummmmmmmmmmmmm...I'm hungry now).

And the last on my favourites list, "Jino's Thai". I guess the name says it all. The most authentic and tasty thai food ever! Very friendly people (who allowed outside booze and luckily for us Sommerfield was on the way, so picking up a wine was always more than convienient). The only other thing, after the long distance, that bothered us was "By Reservations Only" and on a weekend, imagine what a pain it used to be!

Of course, there were other places we frequented, some more than any of the above hang-outs, for example there was the 'Refectory' where we went for all our lunches as long as we were in Labs, there were pizzas from 'Papa's', 'Romeez', sandwiches from 'Bakery 164', Veggie Pittas at 'Nandos', coffees and sandwiches at all the 'La Dolce Vitas', danishes, tarts, cookies from Ainsleys, and then the usual Pizza Huts and Burger Kings and McDonalds... But well, the time I spent at my 3 favourites has been awesome, the conversations, memorable and all the people I went there with, very special.

"Ah! Those were the days..."

*Twitch* *twitch* *twitch*...

It's midnight. I am tired. I'm supposed to be writing my "Statement of Purpose". And it doesn't help that I have to try real hard to make myself *sound* interesting to a bunch of old professors who I (for some reason) find extraordinarily interesting.

Neil is not replying to email. I am thinking... Is he pissed with me? Is he annoyed? Or is it just me?

Classes have started. I still have to prepare for tomorrow's class. I haven't prepared for any of the classes I'm supposed to take this semester.

My stupid computer is acting weird. Runtime error, it seems! Gah!

I haven't exercised in the last 3 days. It's driving me up the wall.

It has been confirmed today (by two *nice* people) that I am impossible.

Mumma isn't home. I miss my Mumma. I want my Mummmaaa! *waaaaaahhh* I want my Mumma now!

Blah. Life!

I am tired. I want to sleep. But my eyes are WIDE OPEN. I am twitching like a bloody junkie, and all I had was dosa-sambar.

My brain refuses to go to sleep. It wants to keep thinking. (I wish I knew what it wants to think.)

Did I say this before? I am tired.

Blaaarrrrrgghhh. Life!

*Sigh*

*Sigh*

*Sigh*

Why am I writing this post? I honestly don't know. You tell me.

Of Things I Left Behind. #1

Anytime is a good time for nostalgia and all this application work keeps transporting me to a time when I handled and manhandled quite a few "matters"! ... "Ah! those were the days..."

Running around doing errands, requesting Profs for references, collecting, photocopying a million and a half documents, short-listing Universities, the actual applications and then wondering if the ones that have managed to make the list are really worth something in the long run. Then there were other issues that I had to figure; funding. I did not want to be one of those(read pampered and spoilt) kids whose only qualification for getting admits to the British Universities is parents with good-looking bank accounts! Thankfully, luckily, I did not have to be one of 'them'...
I've since left all the worries of funding far behind. My theory (and I hope as hell it works for me) is that: If I did not pay for my Masters why on this Earth would I pay for a PhD?! Besides NO ONE sane enough would consider coughing up $30,000/year for 4-5 years!?! So, most Universities give stipends which help cover for most of the costs.
(Anyhoo, the funding worries have now been replaced by other worries; if I have enough research experience, etc. But I'm not going to talk about it here, because I still have to leave it behind. When I do leave it behind, I will delve further on the "matter".)

Arrrgh! How did I start about my applications?!
I had initially decided I will write a post about my life in UK and generally reminisce about the good ol' days, but main yahan kahan aa gayi?! khair thik hai...this *was* how it ALL began!

I'll blog about it later.

Roosikins.

You're my Honeybunch, Sugarplum
Pumpy-umpy-umpkin, You're my Sweetie Pie
You're my Cuppycake, Gumdrop
Snoogums-Boogums, You're the Apple of my Eye
And I love you so and I want you to know
That I'll always be right here
And I love to sing sweet songs to you
Because you are so dear

Love you 'R'. Muah!

Why I Can't Be Funny and More.

(My randomness at its best(if I may say so myself)!)...

Why I can't be funny and why is it always that my sense of humor needs to do a HOO-HA!?!

#1: Because I laugh at bad jokes.
(Eg.:Have you heard this one?
"Why is 6 afraid of 7?"
"Because 7 8 9!!"
-HAHAHAHAHA! (Haanji, read as one of my silent fits of laughter!))

#2: My waking hours are spent in the "analysis mode". It's hard to crack jokes in that mode, man!
(Remark for self: I really need to turn it off sometimes.)

#3: I fall into the category of nerds, and nerds, according to me have a weird, whacky sense of humor which the non-nerds fail to understand. (No offence meant! (to anyone))

...Er, I have my funny moments (sometimes)...I am just not mentally equipped to deal with funny most of the time. Simply put, I am not comically inclined.
Don't get me wrong here, I like a good laugh. I enjoy a good laugh! ... It's just that it's so hard to come by! :(

Anyhoo musing on...the stuff that *I* think makes me *think* *I* am funny:

#1: High dose of Caffeine and/or Sugar and pulling off an all-nighter!
#2: My definition of moderate amounts of alcohol (which is not a lot if you ask me. It can't really be quantified; it's the amount that leaves me... *happy*, blissfully happy :) )
#3: Spending endless hours with my sister.
#4: And something I only recently found out, spending some more endless hours (yes, I have too much time on my hands! Ah! don't give me that look! Gah! not everyone is as lucky! ok?! :P ) with the FA gang! (Haye! I miss you guys!)
#5: When the mean streak in me comes alive.

Hmmn, I never thought I could be 5 point funny!

Looking for the light.

 

I want something else...


The heaviness of the meaningless whims,
Becomes hard to pass on to anyone else,
Alone is how I have to carry this it seems;
Through the tunnel, Until I see hope’s rays and beams...

...I feel I’m cracking under pressure,
Still feeling my way around, very unsure,
Trying to be strong at this point of censure.
The end of the tunnel is somewhere close, I’m sure...

...The cracks deepen, and I sit and stare,
Into nothingness as if this is all I care.
Rescuing reality from fantasy’s claws,
Looking at the times to come cause,
The end of the tunnel is somewhere close...

...At the end of the tunnel there will be light
And through these cracks it will reach inside me
And enlighten me to bear the lightness of being.