- Don't blame the media and Hollywood for this fascination for stick-insectitude and a propensity towards complete drainage of bodily fluids in order to wear that size supersmall nanoskirt. I have been taught that, Aristotle, and may he be reborn as an anorexic grasshopper [positively illiterate. this is of the utmost importance.] declared that beauty is a matter of size and order, and that, goddamit, a whole can be seen only in terms of its parts to be called beautiful. Hence, thus and therefore, what he's pretty much trying to say is, that a very large person will be beyond our aesthetic perception. Uhm, something like that, anyway.
- I have been flung about and hurt my knee and danced like I had a lizard doing cartwheels about my spine and thoroughly enjoyed it all, during rehearsals. Don't even ask what we're putting up. I'm not quite sure myself. All I know so far is that it involves bangla, bamboo poles, oil and jazz. Yes, I'm keeping the suspense. It makes for good publicity.
- I have received my 2nd semester marks. Predictably, queer studies has fucked me straight. Which would have been fine, if I hadn't been so completely convinced I'm not going to pass Literary Theory this semester. Don't get me wrong, I don't harbour any delusions of grandeur about my Intelligence Quotient. I've been made to feel stupid before - like the time back in school when my friends dared me to summon a waiter by screaming,"Squeeze Me!" across the room and I did, because, hey i'm the too-coolz. It led to a series of unfortunate events, and we shall leave it at that. But nothing, nothing absolutely, has induced that unnerving feeling of sandstorms inside my brains as much as every single Lit. Theory class is doing. I Do Not Understand A Damn Thing. Refer to unintelligible Point 1 above. And no, do NOT recommend tearing hair and gnawing knuckles. They don't work.
- I have watched Omkara and simultaneously fallen in love with Ajay Devgan, Saif Ali Khan and a little bit of Kareena. I love Ajay Devgan more, and I don't care that Saif was brilliant as Iago. He was, though. But Ajay was leytaal Omi. I will watch it again. It is fabuloso. Strongly recommend it.
- I have come to the conclusion that our juniors, collectively, are hopping mad. Each and every one of them. And I mean cuh-razy. Nuts. Screwdhila. Sadly though, their insanity is spreading like an epidemic and now we, who are the old-n-wise have started suddenly speaking in broken hindi, even though we're all bangali, and saying things like "heads mein no brains only you have" and giggling hysterically for no particular reason like we were pony-tailed pubescents. Most unbecoming, wottotell only. dammit.
- I have begun completely, utterly, totally forgetting things. Like what other points I had in mind. This makes for a fabulous conclusion, then.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
And because I have painstakingly wasted precious Lord-Jim-reading time on painting this blog in different hues of prettiness and must oblige it with some text [however irrelevant to all our lives] in celebration of the sidebar's miraculous dhei-dhei naach to it's rightful place from the depths of oblivion wherein it hath resided these many sunsets, to the right side of this exuberant piece of literature, I shall tell you of the things that excite the Peep's edgy nerves these days. To make matters relatively easier, I shall shorten my sentences. And tabulate.