Blue bottles

I was watching the Lion King yesterday where the wise monkey teaches Simba a lesson about the past. That it hurts but you can learn from it. I never realized that prior my braces I looked so much like the monkey…Well I learnt that my past as gnarled as it was was finally over.
Three weeks into my Summer vacance in Bangalore made me realise that you can never divorce yourself from the person whom you left behind in people’s minds eight months ago. However much you have changed. Nor can you even try to forgo a confrontation of yesterdays.
At my NALSAR exam I met several of my previous classmates whom I didn’t bother to even find out about knew every screwy detail of MY life since I left the orbit of their influence. Why? How? Huh?
Like an albatross hung around my neck, my every commission or omission came into the hot sunlight of that day,. Damn.
There was no way I could correct it or even explain. Like a mobius strip… No matter how much you straighten the strip there is always a kink in it. A fold. A bend. So I let it be. Let it be the Davy Jones’ locker of my freakin’ hormone infected life.
I’d like to say that I’ve grown. But my profound explanation of it especially at my age seems pretentious. So I’ll leave that.
This thing that I’ve written is not for you to understand. It is for me to see in print how FINAL my thoughts about these thing are.

What is with the Doom’s day is here? Man. That attitude stinks. I’m so tired of people dissing the whole freakin’ world in general and my ideals in particular.

I’m not saying just because I am in some kind of Acid induced rainbow stage, everybody should ditch their stare-into-depths-of-your-vodka depression and do the hokey-pokey. I’m not on acid(hello. can i be more 60’s?) I’m clean but I’m happy.

Amazingly.

I’m not on Zen buddhism anymore. I’ve given up so much muck that I can envisage a happy day minus the cafe sans lait. My brother is dancing the tango again with me. My mom’s smiles are broader. And my father is back to his R.B status.

Quid Pro Quo never sounded better.

Happiness is relative. That doesn’t make it isolated. There are lotsa people in this world who actually care about your happiness and a little bit of theirs depends on yours.

Hang Dog Expression can go **** itsself. Smile and don’t give a **** if the world thinks you are a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket.

I’ve discovered being happy is a lot better than being in some kind of grey world separated from the rest of them like some specimen. I mean to be different not a freak. I should know. I spent the last five years in some kind of hungover Crusoe exile from fun. Where the hell was Friday when I needed him?? All mine were Mondays.

I DON’T WANNA MOVE ON. YOU CAN’T MAKE ME MOVE ON.

It’s crazy but I’m falling apart…actually it’s crazy but I’m finally falling into pieces. I’m heartbroken that they’re killing off Wolverine, but I know I’ll survive…

Everything I love(d) is coming to an end. A befitting end. All the thing that i got five years ago, I’m letting go. School, college, college…all of it assembling quietly in ordered chaos of my mind. All neatly packed in their LV cases ready to be thrown off..

From ashes to ashes…

Ironical.. that a person in my life can change it all especially when I hated him on First site…therefore I’m dedicating part 2 of the Condescending Life of Malaveeka Strange to Kamaljeet. Thank you…

I think it’s time to slough off myself..

I’m happy. That’s a lot to say.

About the title.. i’m going George Orwell.. Not to Burma. Just next door….