Ridiculously Random

There is a round black man standing before me discussing migration in the UK. I don’t understand and I’m not interested. I’m bored, tensed and sleepy. I have four assignments pending and the submission date seems to be nearing at the speed of light. Do I research the supermarkets in Britain or do I research 2012 Olympics? What the F are the Golden Rules of the F'ing Fiscal Policy??

Hmmm…I’m bored. SO! Following from my ridiculously popular post Radically Random, I present….drum roll please….some more crap.


I got glasses. After having perfect vision for 22 years, I got glasses! Why God why!!

I’ve been cursed by the Gods of Energy Conservation. My current accommodation has only 3 lights.

Mental note: stab the loud, annoying bastard sitting in front of me.

My favourite word is Serendipity. Does it not just feel like it dances off your lips!

I’m starting to fear burger and fries.

I have this insane, illogical fear of stairs.

Has anybody heard Joshua Radin?

It’s said that people with stubby fingers tend to be very violent….criminals mostly. Umm…I strongly disagree.

I love purple.

My accountancy professor is Greek and 6’4”. *smirk*

I’m a clumsy twat. I’m a walking, talking disaster. I drop almost everything I touch.

I haven’t spotted a single lizard in London. *touch wood. Thank God!*

You cannot escape Himesh Reshamiya anywhere. Nowhere in the world I tell you!

My oldest piece of stationary is a red, table top pencil sharpener. I've had it since I was 7.

I hate beer.

I want to travel to Switzerland and buy a fabulous, expensive set of Swiss knives.

Round black man calls me Nee-a/Naaiya/Naai (?!!)/ Neigh-ha. Is it that difficult to pronounce Neha??

It snowed here on Diwali.

London hasn’t had a white Christmas in about the last 10 years.

20 minutes left for this boring lecture to get over.

My drunken housemate flushed down a wiping cloth. Plumbing cost – 130 pounds. I wish he had thrown up in the cab instead...that would cost only a fine of 50 pounds.

Where’s the party tonight? Heehe…I don’t know why I typed that out.

I wonder how Quantum of Solace could even qualify as a Bond movie!

Why do some people ask so many questions? Mental note: stab the serial question asker too.

My Russian neighbor made Turkish wraps for me yesterday. I think I’ll send her something Chinese…

My new laptop is just so cute!

I need to buy a fabulous pair of boots.

I dislike being called “Bong”. I’m Bengali. Thank you very much.

I’m so glad George Bush is out of the picture.

I like adding a dash of salt and pepper in my lemon tea. So what!

If you have dimples, I automatically like you.

I came across a website which required me to press a button to confirm I am human. Hahaha…this is all that was left to see!

I have a terrible migraine problem.

I take way too many painkillers. I should probably stop.

Round black man just said I’m unusually quiet today. *snigger*

I should probably get back to class… more later!

Hmm I just typed in 525 words.

Oh! I just added new music to my blog. Did anyone notice?? The second song is by Joshua Radin.

546 words.

Of London and lovers...

Ok. So here’s the scoop.

London weather is officially the most depressing. The women here make me wish I was a few inches taller…a few inches narrower…a little more poised…oh what the heck! I stick out like a sore thumb! The good news is – nobody gives a damn. I don’t either. Well at least not most of the times. Strangers barely make eye contact, and yet are polite when you ask for directions or even share a little joke. The pubs here rock! But I still don’t like beer. I think I’m becoming more of a Rum and Coke person.

It’s scary and exciting - staying away from home for the first time. I think we’re all a little more capable than we think we are. Little realizations make life so much simpler…like oil stains are a bitch to get rid of (haahaha…though it doesn’t make life simpler, it does keep me more alert when I’m cooking!!). Well ok…love is overrated. It’s a hope you build in your hearts and top it up with oodles and oodles of silliness. And then at the end your world falls apart, your heart breaks and you get hurt and cry and all that jazz. Drama…a whole lot of drama. And yet I keep going back to him…to get my heart broken over and over again…hoping this time will be different. The funny thing is…this time is different. So different in fact, that I can’t even relate to it anymore…I feel ordinary and unloved…undesirable. I feel like an old favourite clothing that we’ve grown out of and yet keep tucked away in our wardrobes. I don’t have the strength to protect my heart anymore…I care lesser and lesser about how much it hurts and thus lack the enthusiasm to write it out. I let it be…leave my heart to fight it out on its own or die trying.

It’s a strange, strange situation…I feel helpless and empowered all at once. I know I will be hurt and yet I care too little. Well what other choices do you have if the only person you can turn to in a strange country is the person hurting you?