Diary Without Pages

Trivia I find Ignored

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Flash. Bang.

Look dude, you got money, I get that. But you don’t rub it in just for kicks. Its rude. I mean 6 flashbangs?!! come on!!

Necessity’s a bitch.

You just made that up.

The sentiment stands.

My ass it does. You let a man see you when you’re ripping his throat out.

You just made that up too.

We’re even.

If anything you should take it as a compliment. Your opponent is so afraid of your ferocious combat skills he can’t dare let you see him.

I might just get a kick out of that.

… or maybe you’re just a whiner … whatever fits.

Me? Whine? You’re on bro.

No snipers.

No flashbangs.


Uh … listen …

I gotta go.

Classic whiner.

No, I really gotta run.

Seriously? dude I spent like 8000$ already.

I’ll bring chips.

Oh well … See you Saturday, then … it was a pleasure killing you.




Not Worried

I have a habit of not worrying when I should be worrying. I worry about that sometimes. Change my worrisome ways – that doesn’t make sense, does it?

Anyway, my exams are coming up, and all I am doing is reading fiction. Watching TV series. And devouring through sandwiches all day long – a surprising habit I’ve grown into.

I watched four seasons of House in the last 20 days. Along with about 10 other movies. This, I gather is not the way to be preparing for exams. So, I’m worried, that I’m not worried about anything anymore.

In the last month, I have promised myself, at least three times; that from tomorrow (Its always tomorrow, never today), I will study if its the last thing I do.

The next day, I would read a chapter halfheartedly, flipping through pages …

This is fifth grade stuff … Easy … Easy … Why am I here? ….

Where did I put Hunger Games again? …

Maybe I’ll arrive at the examination hall, book in hand.

Wait up, just one more page left. I promise I’ll get in in a minute … Just, just shh!!

Then there’s the more probable outcome. I’ll just take my time to sleep off the lost hours. I do that … a lot.

… I feel like drifting off right now.

– alright, that made me yawn.

… I’m sleepy …


Blocked and Stopped

In the last ten days, I’ve not written anything. Various reasons, exams chief among them. But that is done and finished.

So, I return to my usual practice. Only, its damn hard now for some reason. Ideas for the next post are there, nagging at the back of my mind. But my brain, for some blasted reason, is refusing to function. Like a virtual standstill, only, it’s not virtual.

Let me break it down for you. I am sitting here, in front of the computer. My fingers hover over the keyboard. I write a sentence. Two sentences. Halfway through the third …

Halt. Backspace. 

I write again. Backspace. I grit my teeth. I write a whole paragraph, pleased with myself – for a minute. Standstill. 

It’s not a writer’s block. Nothing like that. I had one of those once. This is different. I know what to write and how to write. My mind approves, but when it appears on the screen. It just seems … wrong. Out of place. Like gold embroidery on a toilet seat.


Spring Spring Go Away

There has always been one mystery that has baffled me. When people talk about seasons, they talk about four.

Summer, autumn, winter, spring.

Everyone knows this, it’s kindergarten stuff. But often, I find myself wondering, why four? why not three? Because spring just doesn’t seem to be there. There is winter. You feel it going. Its going, going, going, Gone. And you wake up one day covered in sweat. And you think to yourself, was I in coma, how did I skip spring and jumped from winter to summer.

Where did spring go?

This year, I planned it all out. I actually noted the day winter turned to spring.

March 6

I didn’t wake up with a blanket on top of me. Clear sign that winter was gone. But it rained the next day and winter was back. Another 3 days of blissful cold. Officially, winter was done and gone on the unfortunate day of March 9.

March 10

I tried to actually feel the spring. Stupid as it may seem, I tried it. And believe it or not, I felt it. Maybe it was something in the breeze or just the smell but I actually felt it. All the signs were there, once I started looking.The grass was greener than ever and the wind more friendly than it had been for weeks.

March 11 – 19

Spring was there, I could sense it. These were the glory days of the season. It only showed in the flowers and the greenery. The breeze was great, not too hot, not too cold, just right. But the there was still a hint of sweat whenever there was outdoor work involved. Something I had not experienced for quite some time, and did not miss at all.

March 20

I tried to feel it, I really did. Nothing. It was finished. Done. Not a single damn sign that spring was still around, except perhaps the flowers, but what good does that do to anybody when you know that the heat is settling down like a fat kid for a particularly long meal.

So, concluding, its safe to say that spring is a season that lasts 10 days, give or take. Poets and writers find inspiration in this season. Though, I can’t imagine how. One way would be to get it on recording and watch it over and over again to find something meaningful and heartfelt. It’s bound to be more successful than having half a month to work with the entire year. But that’s just me.



I remember the days when I used to watch cartoons in the living room. Not a care in the world. And the best part was, nobody intruded in my designated few hours.

But for better or worse, those days are long gone. And it didn’t take a whole lot of decision making on anyone’s part. One day, the living room was loud as ever. Second day, there was a lot of banging and everybody was an electrician all of a sudden. Third day … the house was quieter than a funeral home – and that hasn’t changed since. Nobody bothered to fix the broken television, which wasn’t really a conscious decision, more like a testament to the laziness that runs in the family.

I can’t say I miss it. Because surprisingly, I don’t. I have grown used to the peaceful hours I spend glued to the computer screen. Out of the frying pan, indeed.

The purpose behind the above is to give a general idea of how alien I am to television. Now, I don’t have anything against the thing – But I don’t really have anything for it either. Anything it can do, my pc can do better. More efficient too. Though there are certain legal issues that I haven’t quite figured out yet, but we’re getting to that.

So, yesterday, I went out to meet a relative of mine. Now, please note that this particular relative’s house is noisy. And not just noisy, make-your-ears-bleed noisy. I usually pretend I’m not there, and it works most of the time. But yesterday, I was not feeling all that well to even chance a wayward question. So, I slipped out when no one was looking, into another room. With nothing else to keep me busy, I turned on the tv and flipped through channels to find something of my taste. I settled with a cricket match. Pakistan vs India is always thrilling.

But it gets downright depressing when your side starts to lose. But thankfully before the painful finish, there was a black out – which was pretty darn lucky, if you ask me. The looks of horror I saw on the faces the next day, told me I had been fortunate to miss the drop scene.

Before the black out, there was a commercial on, one of those that keeps you hanging on every word its entire duration. This commercial featured a smartphone. Galaxy nexus. now before the ad was over, I found myself deeply in love with the device. Its sleek and shiny surface and its groundbreaking new display. Its operating system, you name it. I loved it all.

Now before I go further let me tell you that when I buy something that considerably empties my pockets, I do a long hard research. Which usually takes weeks on end. So, with my phone, before I bought it, I knew all its competitors’ pros and cons by heart. It’s called being extensive.

I recalled why I hadn’t chosen the other phone instead of my current one. And all the reasons started feeling small, even worthless. But then it dawned on me.

When I was back in the peace of my room, I looked up ads for my iPhone, long and hard searches lead to me to one I really liked. I watched it once, I watched it twice. And voila!, I loved my phone again. Just like that. Well, it can’t get any easier than this. Every time you feel sick of your belongings, find an ad from when it came out.

Just to make sure it was not a coincidence, I looked up another ad of my 4 year old refrigerator. And just as anticipated, I began to appreciate the silver lining around the edges, the cool whiff it gave off every time I opened the deep freeze. Even the gentle buzz seemed less annoying.

I can’t figure out if this just me over-thinking things – because that has happened too often for comfort – or is there some truth in my discovery.


Opposed Images

Part of what makes me anti-social is that I don’t like pictures taken of me – there’s nothing philosophical about it – I just don’t.

I’m not ugly – but I’m not exactly what you call prince charming either. But looks are not the reason. I have hated it since I was six years old. I was never eager to get into family shots and if I did, I made sure I was at the very back, in the shade. I think it’s safe to say I was not exceptionally self-conscious at that age. Kids seldom are. It’s not that I’m not a camera person – though I can’t say for sure considering I never even gave it a try.

I don’t like seeing myself from the camera’s point of view. It offends me. The idea, somehow reminds me of ‘face off’ – if anybody has seen that. I see pictures taken of me when I was young, really young. Before six. And the sight is not pretty. Ever.

The last thing I want to do is share my pictures – the few I’ve been unable to get rid of – on the internet. My cyber friends totally get that, though in their minds it’s about anonymity; to the contrary, it’s much more elemental. But I suppose being anonymous is an added bonus, the satisfaction I get of knowing that in people’s minds I am the kid from the blog header is priceless. I am what I chose to be.

One of the reasons why I like eating out is because of the whole “no camera” thing the hotels have got going. I know photographers wouldn’t exactly jump up and start flashing cameras the first moment they saw me, but with that notion out of the equation, the food tastes better.

A little while back, I was going on a college trip and the buses that were to take us,  were running late. Out of sheer boredom people pulled out their cameras. One thing led to another and there was something like a photo shoot going on in less than three minutes. For memories sake, students paired up with professors. When everybody was done and finished, one professor, who did not know me very well looked at me expectantly.

I was lurking in the shadows the entire time and that professor found it odd that the sarcastic one was the one hiding out.

He called out and I approached. He inquired. I tried to explain, and I think I did a pretty good job of it, I might have done better without the stifled laughter around me, but in the end, the message didn’t quite get through. I think I distinctly heard him muttering,”Don’t – like – photos – honestly?!”. But I suppose the others teachers explained it to him afterwards. Me being vain and me hating pictures, it all adds up.