Of How Random People Waste Their Time.

Remember when Joey used the thesaurus for every word in a letter of recommendation for Monica and Chandler as good adoptive parents?!
I received a private message on Orkut from a random visitor, who according to me did a Joey there or is probably doing a bad job of using his newly learnt GRE vocabulary!

Here is the prolix prose of this (un)prolific person:

Read your profile and developed a torrid desire to become friend of yours, if your volition is involved in it. I m soliciting in front of you for your friendship.

Yes we are arrant aliens and I presage that your friendship will be salutary for me and it will be a source of entrenchment for me. I have a fervent desire to be comrade of yours.

It will provide delectation and exhilaration to me in inordinate amount.

Don't take it as an act of blandishment. There is no casuistry and skulduggery involved in this message.

Wheedling in front of such a complaisant and suggestible person like you to become my friend, will be very much tawdry.

Ask me anything in your candour and I will give you reply in all my somberness.

Give me one chance and it won't be untoward and dolorous for you.

Do take your own time and there is no exigency from my side. You can rebuff this plea if it is not assimilated by you.

I must ask for amnesty if you don't like my way of approaching you as a friend and if the above way turned out to be lumbering and ungainly for you, give me retort only if your visceral reactions and self-assurance permit you.

Don't give me any ripostes if you presage that my opinions are of emphatic and dogmatic nature and if it fails to reach a convenant.

You can repeal and execrate this request anytime if you are not filliped by my verve of asking you for friendship and if it has turned out be a repellant stuff for you.

Sorry if you felt mortified after reading this message of mine and if it is baleful for you.

Take great care.

If this greatly interests you, then you can find more about him by reading this:

Before some time, I was very petrified about my "Nemesis" and was very indolent. Now I have turned out to be a "Nihilist" one. I hate the spread eagles, spurious, capricious and uncouth ones who harbour parochial and insular views. I can't rivulet ludicrous, claptrap excuses and thats why being termed as "petulant" and "tantrum" one as I expostulate a lot with orthodox ones and I hate their nonchalant shrugs. Usually I don't listen to anyone and insanely remain engaged in only such activities, which my soul permits me to do, and I expatiate upon all the inclinations of mine, and therefore always remain alive in my figmentations. I do have "IDEE FIXE" in accomplishing the activies independenly choosen by me and feeling neophyte all the times while cracking the codes. Thats why I have always been a very fastidious one. This is only the biggest sooth of my life. Whatever I do whether it is love,hate, respect or flirt, I do it in a very candid and sincere fashion by putting my every tooth and nail into all the above mentioned colossal acts to make them pristine and virtuous. Very impragmatic and placid for my loved ones, and very belligerent & snappish for my enemies and snooty ones. I m an authoritarian, martinet, recalcitrant, intractable and a pure rebellion against any perverse acts around me. I can't live without my dear ones and always remain entangled with those for whom I m a "blue eyed one" so as to make blissful moments and "Nirvana" in my life. Relish fast driving, fun on the run, obsessesion with movie making and luv to help poverished ones r among by bad habits. Monomaniac with respect to commiting outrageous things and at the same time can't accept substandard stuff and keep on surpassing tortuous blocks , though remaining embroiled most of the times as I suffer from hysteria thats why I get placcable with least efforts. I enjoy my "vagabond" cum "juvenile" image nicely. May God saves Libid ones from me. At the same time I always respect "army ones", because with the blessings of them only, we r alive.

I always try to create exultation and ecstacy in exiguous amount for my loved ones.

In addition to the above, I m known for my "Cacography". I m a "Lameduck" in this facet.

Ahem!... Hope you've had much fun reading this...
Cheers!

Of Matrimonials and Much.

I just wrote a profile for a matrimonial. I am utterly and completely disgusted with myself!

They ask you about yourself and that's easy. I mean how hard can it be? I am a self-confessed, self-obsessed being. It was a cake walk.

Then they ask you about your family. I love them so that was fairly easy too.

Then came the expectations! And I went, WTF!?! I mean it's so fucking transcendental! I don't know how people have these ideas and images of their Mr/Ms Right?!
I happen to be clueless about a lot of things and this got added and took up 3 meters of my existing 5 meters of scroll!
And then are other issues and types of expectations too. I mean there are realistic/unrealistic expectations, there are lowered expectations that come from previous experiences, there are the expectations that you hope that you won't have to put down in so many words, there are expectations not just from the suitor but from the family also, well and then some...
How does one define, differentiate and then finally decide what they want? How does one know what they want in terms of all the abstract, all the unsaid?

And then I finally managed to write one sentence. Only one sentence. All I expect in one sentence. Pathetic!

Now I wonder how I never found any man in all these years who could come to close to all that I need, all that I want? Do I ask for a lot? Am I too stuck up? Am I plain lost? Am I not looking for the right things? I'm obviously not looking for the right things, how else do you explain finishing the expectations part in one sentence?!
What do they look for in them anyways?
How do they define their compatibility with their significant others?
How do they know what to keep what to let go?

What is fantastic? What is reality?
Why is all this so hard?

Kind Words From A Relative Stranger...

Gave me hope. Managed to bring a tiny shred of cheer in my pathetic life. Sometimes, support comes from the unlikeliest of sources. It feels nice.
I guess it means much more as it's unexpected.
They say, one shouldn't talk to strangers. That strangers are not supposed to understand. They don't understand.
But sometimes they do. And I'm glad they do.

The relative stranger did not have to say much. It was the who, when and how that made all the difference in the support I've been receiving so far. He said,

We all stiffen our upper lip and put on a brave face in this situation, but I can imagine what you must be going through. The time during Univ. admissions tries even the toughest. I wish there were something I could say to ease it (like, 'univ admissions are not the end of the world', or 'research matters, not the reputation doesnt',etc), but there isnt anything. If it is any comfort, know that I understand.

Relative Stranger, I did not say it well enough earlier. Thank you. Thank you for those well-meant words.

The Importance of Being Earnest.

And Now The Crap I Left Unsaid....

I think I have made up my mind about what relationships really are and I think I know that they are never what they are supposed to be, and definitely never what they appear to be...
What they are or what they become after a considerable time-span, if they are still extant, I cannot say for sure because of this very reason. I believe, rather unromantically, that these so-called relationships become seriously stagnated and progressively so with time. In an *earnest* attempt to undersand this mêlée between ideas and hypotheses generated in my tiny little brain with their tangibility, their practicality, I have tried using analogies drawn from real-life experiences (others' not mine), films, books, even agony-aunt-type magazines and blogs to no avail. I have since given up pondering over such "matters" completely, which I'm sure you must have figured by now as I am writing an entire blog. I have to admit, I don't mull over it at all!

I need a break man! I get way too involved in other people's "matters" and forget I have a life of my own that I ought to be Living. The sad part is that I gave to remind myself. Shit! Why I spend SO much time thinking and not actually putting things into practice, is something I honestly don't know. I am brooding over it as I am typing out this crap. And I am saying to myself; thinking about this isn't trivial, it's simply my general interest in other people's business, which "they" mildly refer to as curiosity, it's just my need to be earnest about everything, my insatiable necessity to be Miss Goody-two-shoes Know-it-all!
(Which, for no reason, reminds me of something I read about ignorance in Oscar Wilde's 'Importance of Being Earnest', which has nothing to do with relationships or for that matter to do with curiosity...I just remembered it and said to myself, why not get more arbitrary than my usual self. Besides I find it absolutely hilarious, so....)

Lady Bracknell: I have always been of the opinion that a man who desires to
get married should know either everything or nothing. Which do you know?
Jack: I know nothing, Lady Bracknell.
Lady Bracknell: I am pleased to hear it. I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a very delicate exotic fruit. Touch it and the
bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately, in England at any rate, education produces no effect
whatsoever. If it did, it would prove a serious danger to the upper classes,
and probably lead to acts of violence in Grosvenor's Square.

Ah! I have exhausted myself talking about inconsequential things, as is my favourite diversion from mundane, monotonous routine, I loosely refer to as my life. :D So, I leave you think about the importance of being earnest.

*Random-ness Alert*

Please go listen to this song by Oasis called "Importance of Being Idle"....

I don't mind
As long as there's a bed beneath the stars that shine
I'll be fine, if you give me a minute, a man's got a limit
I can't get a life if my heart's not in it

OK, so I'll go listen to the song now, and you get back to whatever it is that you were doing before you chanced upon reading and bearing with my random reflections! :D

Adieu! Tata! Bye-bye!

Madhuri is Back...

...And How?!

Just back from 'Aaja Nachle'.

And I'm saying it for the nth time since I left the cinema-halls, Madhuri is just brilliant. I never thought I had missed Madhuri's presence in tinseltown until today...! Honestly, the only two things that worked for me in the film were the dances and the dancer. I felt like going "haye" after every song.
Hats off to Vaibhavi Merchant! 'Aaja Nachle' actually felt like a Vaibhavi Merchant film rather than an Anil Mehta's!
It was such a treat watching good choreography! And! And! And! Madhuri was in it!

Anyhoo, I've had enough of me getting all excited over Madhuri's come-back, dancing abilities, etc. It's bedtime and 'they' say that sleep deprivation is detrimental to health, actually anyone's health, but I care more about mine. So, ...

Good Night!

Them and Me

They are everywhere.
They make me feel important.
They want me to do things.
They tell me what I want.
They want me to be happy.
They give me advice.
They ask nothing in return.
They say that is best for me.

...BUT...

I don't want them here.
I don't want to feel important.
I don't want to do things.
I know what I want.
I am happy.
I can think.
I want to be alone.
I am young, not foolish!

Why can't they understand?
Or is it me who doesn't really understand?

Is it them, or is it just me?

Song Beneath The Song.

I absolutely love things that are beneath other things; the things unsaid, the subtle, obscure, hidden meanings that usually go unnoticed by "them". (for future references, "them" is the general, insignificant lot! bah!) I guess, no, I think, it makes a piece of work/art a lot closer to the creator's/artist's self. (I want to give this thought a little more thought, maybe another blog-post, some other day!)

I was listening to 'Song Beneath The Song' by Maria Taylor. I was moved more than I considered myself capable.

Hmmm, so why does my heart feel so heavy?

"Song Beneath The Song"

Cryptic words meander
Now there is a song beneath the song
One day you'll learn
You'll soon discern its true meaning
An interesting detachment
A listless poem of love sincere
Desire, despair
Overlapping melodies

And it's not a love, it's not a love
It's not a love, it's not a love song

And now the loops are reminiscing
Recurring dreams of minor chords
Metered time
Muted chimes find the beat

And in the pulse there lies conviction
A steady push and pull routine
Till cymbals swelled
High notes fell into reach

And it's not a love, it's not a love
It's not a love, it's not a love song.

--Maria Taylor.

There is so much undefined pain, so much undefined hurt and yet through all the undefined-ness (?!)I could still, strangely identify with it! it's not the simple sadness, there is something about this song that intrigued me immensely, and without knowing what that was, I still felt that I had experienced it somewhere... at some lost locus within the length of my lifetime...am I making any sense?! anyways, I hope I am, it's so hard to articulate such complex thoughts and emotions).
No-no, don't get any wrong notions about my life, it has been almost perfect (touch-wood!), no complaints there, but the song struck a chord somewhere, stirred something within me which I had forgotten existed; somethings I had shut in a closet to be forgotten is more like it.

In 'High Fidelity', says Rob Gordon, "I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home and ask me what I thought of them, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes."
Listening to that... all I wanted to scream out was...."Me tooo!!" (just replace the 'she' with 'he', of course! :D)

Sorry, I digress. So, coming back to this song, it sort-of, seems to belong to the category of such private songs written especially, with personal liner by the poet somewhere. *sigh* [I dunno why I sighed, just felt like a sigh would sum up all the things that I'm leaving unsaid! :)]

Someday. Someday, someone is going to write a beautiful song about me, a song for me. Someday.

On that thought, I will sign off.

P.S.: I just want to add, rather urge you to listen to this song...'Song Beneath The Song', it's lovely!