Love love.

Accidentally in love by The Counting Crows
my latest love.


who needs men?

Happpiness by Deboleena 'the pixie' Rakshit :)

After struggling to upload this boooteeeefooool picture created by a very talented and vrilliant friend, Debo[leenaa] who is alsoo boooooteefoool, I present this art work of various happylists put together that'll just make anyone who reads it happy and fuzzy inside much like the things in the list itself. Thank you for making this. You is wow.


p.s - sorry for the shitty pic quality and am still trying to upload the 2nd chobi. :|

This is my new love!

Fireflies-Owl City City

I’d like to make myself believe
That planet earth turns slowly
It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay
Awake when I’m asleep
‘Cause everything is never as it seems
When I fall asleep


I love love love this song. Makes me fuzzy inside.

Where is the pie?

For the past few days I have done NOTHING. Okay, maybe I have. Scratched my bum, played with my underwear, squeezed my love handles and also managed to stuff my face with homemade cake. It has been days, no no.. weeks.. okay fine, months since I have opened a text book or anything meaningful that will help me 'grow as a person' or shit like that.
On the plus side I did manage to see a lot of films I didn't think I'd like. Danny the Dog, The Brave One, Hollywood Ending, Over her Dead Body, I'm not there.. . And there has been all the IPL matches that I HAD to watch or else , you know, life would be over as it were.
I slept for 12 hours a day, caught a cold, got fever, got out of it, puked and stuffed my face all over again, lost half a chip , found it under the sofa, finished two bars of Temptations and Five star fruit and nut. I also managed to catch all the episodes of Heroes, Friends and Two and a half men .

And when all of that got me bored I cam online and repeatedly listened to Dido, whom by the way I am going to marry because 'I am in love and always will be'.


Sigh, I must get back to human civilization before I really turn into a pig. Hmm, maybe after my mud bath.

Death and Life.

It's just a word. It makes no sense though. What does it mean anyway? It shouldn't carry so many implications. It shouldn't make you feel as if you have been sucked out of life. 'Death' was a word we gave meaning too, so can we not take it back? Make it something happier, something that won't make you ask morbid questions?

And can no one give us a notification when this so-called Death will come.

The last thing I told my Dadu when he asked me to spend some time with me, that I'd much rather watch T.V. I wasn't trying to be rude, I loved, still love, my Dadu, it's just that I thought T.V was more important. Had I known..

Today, at 8 a.m, a dear friend from the past passed away. We had known she was suffering. But she never allowed us to know how much. The last exchange I had with her is 'Hey, you've gained a few, haven't you?'.

All of this just makes me realise how I should hold my tongue and treat people like it's the last I'll ever see them.

I still think we need to change the meaning of the word. It makes no sense. But then again we gave meaning to 'Life' as well.

Tears and Influences

Okay, I have a question. Does every writer, amateur or professional, need to have some sort of an influence [influences]? I remember one cold and scary night in London, when three very strange short people with the tallest ego you can ever find,entrapped me into some sort of an intervention.
Mr. HUGE EGO BECAUSE-I-WENT-TO-LSE-AND-OWN-MY-OWN-COMPANY-NOW, asked ever-so-politely, 'So you claim you have passion for writing, huh? So who are your influences?'. I stared at this bespectacled semi-monstrous man, blinked twice, looked at the floor hoping the correct answer will be secretly written on the floor. Sadly, the floor remained quiet and my eyelids refused to blink further. I looked at him, cleared my knotted voice and said, 'Uhh.. I like the funnies. So uh.. P.G. Wodehouse?' and flashed a nervous smile.

Have you ever seen the expression on your face when you are constipated? Well, there it was all over his face, screaming, 'MYPOOPWON'TCOMEOUT!'. My God, I thought, what did I say or do now? 'That is so much of a cliche, mimi [me], what sort of a writer are you if you do not have any genuine influence? If you were a part of any university here you would be eaten up alive.' And ofcourse, the other two nodded gravely at the nuisance good-for-nothing thing that I had become.
'Why are you surprised? She's an empty drum set. All noise but no substance', said the Madam Bloatary EmoHighness.
'In my days, a good whipping solved everything...blah blah blah..when I was a kid, I was awesome..blah blah blah', went on Mr. Partyshifter Blah blah.
Yes, the good old days. I sat staring into space, fighting back tears [I am a bit whiny]hoping I had been someone else , even the little flowerpot on the balcony.

But this sort of makes me question, is it really some sort of a neccesity to state an influence , a proper on not a 'cliche', in order for people to take you seriously as a writer? Were they right? Or are they just how I potrayed them to be? Bloated with egos.

So many questions. I really wish there was a right answer to all of this. It's hard to be taken seriouly as it is. Anyway, it's just a passing thought. I shall now go back to Bob and pink cookies.

Moo <3

I love talented peoples.

The Apartment from Hell.

I've realised that our mommies ROCK. THE END.

No no, there is more!

So yeah, the reason for this epiphany is, I have a friend, who is basically a rat. She lies to live in a little dusty hole. For someone as brilliant as her she can be extraordinarily strange. So we decided to go one day and help her settle into her new place.

The flat has 3 rooms [one bedroom, one kitchen and store room of sorts], and also a living room sort of space. And since it is temporary she has occupied just the bedroom. It sounds fine for now. But believe me when we entered the room our reactions were accompanied by Bernard Herrmann's score from the movie Psycho .

Clothes strewn everywhere, food crumbs and dust mingled to form little semi-edible dust bunnies and the woman herself unwashed fit into the whole scene. As I was going through her suitcases , I not only found unused toiletries and groceries that were long forgotten but also certain unmentionables stuffed in between. And I would like to mention that there were a LOT of unmentionables. And one of them was so unmentionable that I had to just mention about the unmentionablementionableunmentionable.

So one of us [Shreya Sen Enterprise] took over organising the shelves and was having a difficult time getting the ratwoman to DE-clutter. She found importance not only in old labels from clothes but also expired lotions, sunscreens, toothpaste and even a half-squeezed jam tube. And the more I discovered hidden treasure from her dusty bags , the more she tried to keep them all. But at the end she managed to make it look beautiful. Infact it was the only nice looking part of the room.

Then there was the whimsical kitty of the lot [ Diya Sinha (they specifically asked me use their surnames.. :| need new friends)] who lay on the bed and made new lyrics like 'The Blue man from Pluto who stole a rat", or something like that. And inbetween it all she also managed to pass her opinions as we cleaned. Finally she did fold a stack full of clothes. So good for you, kitty kat. Mommy would be proud.

And when I sweeped the room there was enough dirt for 3 rats to live in. Yay to rats. And after we took of the mattress cover it stank. So basically she has a neat but smelly bed.

So after one and a half our of trying to make her place liveable [it still needs work, though] we returned to our own homes thanking the good Lord for our mommies who may seem paranoid about cleaning but it's genuine concern so that we do not live as rats. Praise your mommy. Please please clean up your rooms once in a while. I know I will.

p.s- we'll be doing the cleaning up every month till she moves.

p.p.s- I hope we do.

p.p.p.s- I like p.s-ing. :D YAY!

B.I.Gs and Assholes.

Okay, I have to say beautiful girls are stupid. There. I said it. And not just beautiful girls but beautiful INTELLIGENT girls are stupid. Even Bimbos are better off, atleast they cannot help their stupidity. But the B.I.Gs [beautiful intelligent girls, stupid] are stupid on purpose.

I realize I have used the word 'stupid' way too many times. But the reason for my exasperation is that everyday I see these B.I.Gs falling for absolute assholes and these assholes are blatantly asshole-ish in EVERY WAY. They refuse to see the signs and they refuse to admit that this is NO Mills and Boon love story but reality where assholes are assholes and men [i am yet to find one] are men.

No one reads the signs and no one listens to their wise friends. It's sad. It is almost misogynistic since obviously you hate yourself enough to fall for losers like that. Please do not get me wrong I am not judging. I have dated my share of losers [well, fell for them anyway] and it makes me angry now that I did not see the signs or listen to my loved ones who obviously did.

And it's happening more and more now with the lack of guys around. Here's the thing if you do not get a guy settle for a puppy. There are also your fingers, various sex toys and homemade products one can use to quench the 'other' needs. DO NOT THINK YOU CAN REFORM THE ASSHOLE. An asshole is born an asshole and will only change if God intervenes, which I highly doubt He will.

NEVER SETTLE FOR ANYTHING LESS THAN WHAT YOU DESERVE because [for once I agree with Loreal] you are worth it!

Blog blog blog.

It has come to my attention [ after it stared blatantly at my face for the past few years now] that people blog. EVERYONE blogs. My mother who does not even know how to check her own mail without opening at least 3 sites dealing with online jobs first, reads blogs.

I realise what a cliched subject matter I have chosen. Probably wondering why I am even writing about something so fairly obvious. Well, because I can. It's amazing what you can put across just by typing it down on this internet diary. There are actually awards for this sort of things:http://blogofthedayawards.blogspot.com/.

Famous bloggers and bloggers who are famous. We have it all. And this really makes me wonder whether I should blog on a regular basis? But then neither do I have the writing skills nor the patience. And it gives me an extreme amount complex to read my friends' blogs. Why couldn't I have been well read, imaginative, creative and pretty ? Oh erm, the last one is something I like to add whenever I am whining to God.

And another thing is once you start to get the hang of it , you pine for followers. Yes, I will too. I am pining write now. Pliss pliissss to read semi-empty blog.

Oh and yes I like to whine and pine a lot so if you do read and find it annoying pretend to like it and I will give you a cookie and a kiss from BOB.

Signing out and hope to be back soon,

Moo