First Post for the Year

I just got an Airtel message telling me that it is Hrithik Roshan's birthday tomorrow, so if I want to wish him, Airtel will be happy to pass on my birthday wishes. All balderwash and blabberwocky!

And thus I begin my first post of the new year.

2008 did not arrive on time for me. I spent my 31st moping around and feeling sorry for myself. 1st Jan, 2008, I had a hangover from all that depression. I didn't want the new year to arrive just yet. I wasn't exactly ready. All I wanted was to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich and live in a make-believe world of comfort and security. But Depression does not last long with me. Neither of us like each other, and the gloominess had already overstayed its welcome in my life by a week. The fears remained, but they moved off into the locked attic of my mind with only a threat to resurface later. I could live with that, and by 2nd Jan, 2008, I felt better, lighter, happier. My new year arrived a day late, but it did arrive. Indian Standard Time you see.

I went out on 31st afternoon. Met up with a friend. Shreya. She's supposed to be my soulmate by birth according to this gigantic horoscope book that Ma got as a present a few years back. None of my boyfriends/crushes/almost-boyfriends featured on my list of soulmates. Anyway, Shreya and I went to the Cha-bar at the Oxford bookstore on Park Street. We drank tea, grumbled about our unfocussed, meandering lives, got depressed, envied the stability in other people's lives, got even more depressed, stared at some weirdly dressed people, got really depressed, toyed with the idea of travel journalism, planned a shoestring-budget trip, got happier, and departed on a smilier note with a Happy New Year in advance. Then I came home and moped. Sigh. Such is life.

My new year's resolution is to chat (not necessarily and preferably not online) with at least one new person every day. I know that isn't going to happen, but it's the 9th today, and I've already managed three. Pretty good by my own unsocial standards.

I bought a new diary by the way. That is one of the reasons why I have not been blogging like a maniac. Instead, I've been rambling for 4 pages at a time in my new-found possession.

Speaking of possessions, I also bought a sweater after grumbling that I'm broke (I'm not really... but that's hush-hush information) and pretending to shiver in the cold (irrespective of what Kolkatans claim, this winter was not all that cold! I managed through it with a windcheater and a shawl. And I never wore both at the same time.) The sad thing is that winter '07-'08 is on its way out, and my chic new sweater is going to have to rough it out in the cupboard for at least another 12 months. What a pity :(

My littlest sister just got 7 whacks from me for emptying a whole bottle of chocolate milk on to my mattress. She didn't drop it by mistake. She opened the bottle, turned it over, and emptied every last drop. Now she's punished and staring at the wall. Between you and me, she doesn't look sorry at all. In fact, she's standing there and grinning her happiest smile at me. All this, after 7 whacks!

My best friend's brother is pushing her to get engaged to her boyfriend this year. He's probably just bored that all his friends have got married already. She's the closest he can bully about marriage now.

My own first cousin is getting married in Feb to a guy she has been dating for 8 years. I went over to her place to check out her trousseau, and even though I did nothing but look as she opened trunks and suitcases of clothes, cosmetics, toiletries, gifts, and the like, it was very tiring. I was yawning like a sleep-deprived hippopotamus even before thirty minutes had passed. I dread dressing up. It seems like such a waste of time. At my wedding I'm wearing pajamas. The groom and guests can dress up however they like (Disclaimer: Nudity and obscenity will not be approved of).

My ex-bf is also getting married in Feb. But given that he has given so many versions of his wedding already, nobody is sure as to whether or not he is actually getting married. I'd like to go to the wedding, but I don't think I'll get an invite unless I ask. And I'm not about to ask.

Given that this is wedding season, and there is one in my family, wedding issues are bound to come up in this space. But do not construe my wedding talk to mean that I'm desperate to get married. I'm not; if for no other reason than the idea of having to get all dressed up with silk, satin, and face/war paint. I'm such a bum sometimes.