Sometimes

Do you sometimes hear a song and unconsciously sway in time. Know that you'll be humming it till late in the evenings and the mornings to come. Figure it will stay on your playlist till your player dies out and gives in. Forget everything but the way it seeps through your thoughts and overwhelms the world.

Do you sometimes read a book and find a friend in the pages. Love them with all sincerity and expect wonderful advice at the drop of a hat. Ask them about the moons and stars far away, about clouds in the sky. Cry to them when the world feels unfair and wrong. Pretend to ignore them so that they may call out to you in the midst of a fierce summer wind.

Do you sometimes look back through albums and faded photographs. Look for people that you have seldom talked with; only observed through corners of your eye. Recall instances that seem like your own, yet make you a stranger in a strange land. Create characters in your head that amuse you for hours at an end.

Do you sometimes look at someone across the room and freeze. Think that the ground beneath your feet just moved a little. Look into their eyes to find a steady reassuring gaze surrounding you, getting you drunker than the wine in your hands. Breathe while pinching yourself, for you have found one more alike soul to banter with.

#Lesson for today: We do. We all do.

We'll romanticize everything.

Memories, train journeys.

Yearning, tiny little habits,

Shoes, a universe full of clues.

A sudden rush of cold breeze,

Streets, doors that shall creak.

We'll romanticize everything,

But we'll never romance anything.

I'm your man, said Cohen

There is usually a fair amount of conjecture involved as to why anybody should ever want a boyfriend. Of late, I too have been thinking hard about my reasons for wanting a boyfriend. In all honesty, I can say that the only reason I want a boyfriend is so that he can put on Leonard Cohen's "I'll Be Your Man" in the background and slow dance with me.

That is all I would want from him.

I've been thinking and have come to the decision that I will soon be ending most of my 'online only' friendships. Except for a few people who have truly become a part of my life, I will be ceasing conversation with these people. It's become rather hard to be this involved with each other and not be actually involved in everyday life. I expect a little too much from them and it's not fair, is it?

There is a new show airing in the US, called Bridalplasty. It is scary, like horror-that-is-network-executives scary. The point of the show is for women to contest against each other so that they can get plastic surgery done post each task. Liposuction, Enhancement, Tummy tucks. You name it, they'll do it. The winner gets a dream wedding. All the grooms-to-be lose, cuz their fiancee's are now freaks.

#Lesson for today: Slow music, slow simmering love.

Too bad, girlie.

It seems I'm a person made entirely of words and every boy out to win my heart has left his dictionary at home. I'm grateful for the few boys who have learnt it by heart, though.

Too bad they're never going to be mine.


It has come to be that I think I have fallen in love. With exactly (1) person, region, language and lifestyle.

Too bad I've no time for any of them.


It seems I currently look the best I have in years.

Too bad there is nobody to quite appreciate it.


It is a great joy that friends have found good friends in far away lands, boyfriends and work that keeps them happy.

Too bad that they seem to have forgotten about me.


The world is conspiring to make me feel a little more melancholy each day and cheat heavily on my healthy eating mode.

#Lesson for today: Too bad that's not happening.

Lights will guide you home

What is it about a camera that can turn the most notorious festival-mood-killer into a ball of happiness and joy at the idea of lighting candles?

Happy Diwali, everybody.

#Lesson for today: Hair make for engaging travel companions.

I will go and get a Justin Bieber-ish haircut.

Mostly because it'll suit me more.

I haven't bothered with a haircut in 10 months. The split ends have split ends.

#Lesson for today: If it's a broken part, replace it.
But, if it's a broken arm then brace it.
If it's a broken heart then face it.
Are the things that make you blow.
Hell, no reason, go on and scream.
If you're shocked it's just the fault,
Of faulty manufacturing.

The moozic post

Maine galti se Ishq Bector ka naya video dekh liya. Mujhe bahut bure sapne aane waale hain, marrrrk maaiii wordsss!

There is new music on the blog, mostly because I cannot take any more of that whistling for a while. Enjoy my random taste in music, derived from the Indie tendencies of best friend. My own tastes in music tend to be difficult to describe. In the last few days, I've gone from Rafi to Children of Bodom to Daniel Eno to Waka Waka to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie to a sudden wish to watch The Sound of Music again and again. And a little bit of Devendra Banhart thrown in for good measure?

What did us kids do before we discovered the beauty of youtube and thelastfm? We listened to the Best of BSB Chapter 1 on repeat, much like tonight. One also remembers a small playlist somewhere on the iTunes screen with The Flaming Lips, Paradise Circus, The Who, The Doors and Tom Petty all mixed in. Or maybe just Deewana Hua Pagal on replay. *Sigh*

The shuffle has been very partial towards Coldplay today, I wonder if that's a sign that I've been watching too much of Wonderfalls and 30 Rock. What can I say, it's too early to start Arrested Development all over again.

#Lesson for today: Ishq Bector ko Dakku Daddy nahi pasand.

Twenty, soon enough

Mother always claimed that taking care of my doll-house was like preparing to take care of my life.
I broke my first and only doll-house.

Father always tried to make sure I had more sense in my pretty head than stories from far-away lands.
I dreamt of wind swept archipelagos off the coast of a rainy existence.

I always wanted to be the kind of person who knew what to do in life and never lost sight of myself.
I ended up abhorring change of any kind.

Twenty years of existence and I don't know if I did anything right.
Twenty years of existence and another twenty starts on a cold, rainy and whiskey-fuelled night.

#Lesson for today: It's scary to be so close and yet so far from turning twenty.

Ode to sugary delights.

I think I'm going thora sa emo. Black nail polish, dark thoughts and random self-pen-tattooing. Only, I've what, a whole of three black tops with me? And not enough random dark thoughts to cut my wrists. Not to forget a whole packet of mishri and a beautiful moonlit night ahead of me.

What did Urmila sing?
Tanha tanha yahan pe jeena ye koi baat hai?
Koi saathi nahin tera yahaan to ye koi baat hai?
Kisi ko pyaar dede,
Kisi ka pyaar lele,
Is saare zamaane mein yehi pyaari baat hai.

Cute limerick. Just not as powerful as the stories of lightning storms far away. Life is all about looking for newer things now.

Bas main aur meri parchaayi,
Hum chale un raston par,
Jahan mile humein do pal ka saathi,
Do pal ka karavaan hum sunte chale.

#Lesson for today: Janaab, jaankar bhi kya karenge?

Khabar nahi

This lemon is back to being a loner for now. No more unhealthy pseudo-boyfriend crap. No more day-dreaming. No more longings. Although, I do have a little thing for someone I can't have and it makes me feel funny inside. ;]

Among other news, Delhi is yet again on high alert because of a random shooting. And Sheila Dikshit figures the best way to make people less terrified about coming for the CWG is to ask us Delhi-ites to celebrate the Games like they were a holiday. I don't think she gets much of Delhi will be busy with their Pujo/Diwali/Dusshera celebrations. Or out of Delhi.

What's to celebrate anyway? I can't walk around C.P. for hours, I can't take one particular lane in the road while the Games are on, I can't fuckin' go meet my friends because Mother thinks the police will fine me or something. I might just shift to Gurgaon for the time being. Not to mention that it's September and it feels like the winters are almost here. No kidding, it felt like the middle of November today morning. Which explains why I still haven't had a bath. Pointless exercise. It's not like anybody cares.

#Lesson for today: Sunshine isn't for me. Sorry, Katrina and the Waves.

Cadbury didn't come up Temptations, I did.

We all have our obsessions. Some small, some big. Small known, some like a dark secret eating inside of you till it spills out and you're afraid you're forever going to be greeted with one upturned eyebrow and a little whisper behind the back.

But then there are those, that make you incessantly happy. Those you think about when nothing else comes to your mind. Those that naturally take over so much of your time, you wonder when the clock struck midnight and moved beyond. Obsessions of the heart, where it doesn't even matter how obsessed you get.

Dangerous are those, that linger unaccepted.For once you know of it, you can let it fester on for as long as it must till the time comes for it to pass. Once you know of it, you can chuckle at it and talk to it like a child being unreasonable and know it cannot last long. Once you know, you know and you couldn't care.

You're fast becoming an obsession and I know it. But I'll forget you soon enough, like I forgot the others.

#Lesson for today: I've a major thing for German poets.

Blogpost

My table is cluttered. Not for the first time either.

A hard disk, a wallet.
A photograph, a scale.
A pair of earrings, a tin box.
An USB drive cap, a ten rupee coin.
And I've been staring at them for too long now.

Bas bohot has kar ji liye, kuch toh rone bhi do.

#Lesson for today: It rains, it pours, it drizzles. It keeps you alive, doesn't it?

Itna khayegi toh moti ho jayegi

Sometimes you'll do anything, be as forceful or as cunning or just plain annoying.

For free food.

I don't know why that is though. I thought we were civilized. I guess not. We're all wild lemons after all.

#Lesson for today: Free.Food.Good.

Mar gaya rahul

Hadd hai gary lightbody. Uska bass chale toh kisi bhi ladke ke compliments cliched aur overused lagenge. But till that time comes, I have momos to eat. Chicken ones at that, half of them friend and the other perfectly steamed. With the well measured combination of the spicy and sweet sauce.

Dusri taraf ek naiyya duub rahi hai. Kya karein, aathvi kaksha ke baad ab jaakar phir hindi bolne ka mauka mila hai. Ab mil hi gaya hai toh jaane kyun de?

Nimbu ke pedh ne bhi madad karni band kar di hai.

Bas ab ek tinke ka sahara hai. Wah bhi toota toh kya bacha?

#Lesson for today: Bachon, chahe french, german, sanskrit, spanish jo marzi seekhni ho seekh lo. Apni rajya ki bhaasha mat bhulna. Kyunki google translate ka vyaakran bohot ki bekaar hai.

Aur barso

I feel plain sorry for the CWG chaps now. Even if they are trying to get the Games rolling, the rain isn't making things any easier. The elements collectively decided to screw Kalmadi over. But I couldn't care. The moment I have my holidays, I'm plonking this fat-ass somewhere far away and forgetting the world exists for a while.

Seriously, I knew the third year of college was going to be hard. I just didn't know I was going to burnout in two month's time. It's already September and suddenly staring at blank patch on the wall has become very calming. What with watching two movies a day and making sense of all the symbolism, comfort eating seems like a good habit to develop again. More so because the momos near college are suddenly better than they ever were.

I am vaguely scared of Skype. I wonder why.

Phir baarish. Phir paani. Phir geele kapde. Phir maa ka daantna. Phir wahi hasi. Phir wahi din.

#Lesson for today: Even re-inforced plastic umbrellas cannot save you from the Delhi skies.

On a music box

What do you see?
You people gazing at me.
You see a doll on a music box,
That's wound by a key.
How can you tell,
I'm under a spell?
I'm waiting for love's first kiss!
You cannot see,
How much I long to be free.
Turning around on this music box,
That's wound by a key.
Yearning..
Yearning..
While,
I'm turning around and around..

Lemon Boy

Lemons are loners, I've noticed. Still, it has so come to be that Lemon Girl is in possession of something resembling a Lemon Boy.

Lemon Boy features heavily throughout this blog. He's never been credited, except for maybe as 'A'. Lemon Boy happens to be my best friend since forever. And my first love. And almost like my first boyfriend. *So Bollywood, I know*.

Lemon Boy complicates life to no end, yet he is the only one who can keep it very simple. Lemon Boy has a girlfriend, one he is very dedicated to. He does, though, have the softest of spots for me and is my pseudo-boyfriend. I don't know what that is, really. He's more than a best friend but not a boyfriend, I guess.

The reason why I'm saying this is that too many of my incoherent posts are so because of him. Now that he's out in the open, maybe much of the general confusion in my head will stop. Or maybe I'll grow tired of him and find someone new. Either ways, Lemon Boy is here to stay.

#Lesson for today: Lemon Boys are impossible to not love.

Queen of whales

There are always some chats which you want to frame and hang.

A: Tujhe ek course padhana chahiye. Self esteem proportionate to size 101.
me: Hmmm, you have a point.
A: I don't know how you manage.
me: Muskhil thodi naa hai. What is the worst they can call me?
A: Mujhe kya pata? Elephant, whale, moti?
me: Usmein kya hai? Koi whale bole toh uska simple reply hai: "I'm waiting to be declared as a new species."
A: ...
...
...
me: Theek hai, "I'm waiting to be declared as the queen of whales!"
A: Bahut paisa kamayegi tu.

Also

me: Haan re, I'm never getting a boy.
A: True.
me: Eh? That was rude.
A: I'm just saying.. you won't get a boy. You'll get a man.
me: Acha.
A: *Twirls you into arms, puts on music from Amelie and kisses till you forget about getting a boyfriend*
me: Should I cut, copy, paste to dearest girlfriend?
A: Kar le. If she breaks up with me, you can be my lifelong rebound. :*
me: Whee. :-|

#Lesson for today: Self esteem is easy. Love isn't.

Why does Christina Aguilera even try singing peppy songs when her voice is point blank perfect for sad songs?

I'm in love.

With Him.

#Lesson for the day: What? It's love.

The hours

It takes exactly 17 minutes and 38 seconds to go from the north of delhi to the west in the metro. I checked. Four times. It takes just a little more than that to go from actually wanting to laugh and snicker to lying comatose on the bed staring up at the fan that never tires, even though the only thing it knows is to go around in circles. It takes an hour longer to finally fall asleep, even though you know you won't like the dreams that are bound to come. It takes two hours more to think about what you've started doing and feel bad about it. And then immediately stop caring because that is what got you into this mess in the first place.

It takes till nightfall for the entire morning to wash away from your mind so that you can cry a little. No reason, it feels right to be letting something go. It takes till midnight for the music to start. Somewhere in my mind, Snow Patrol and Coldplay begin to alternately opening wounds and plastering them with band-aids. It takes the three seconds post midnight to check the chat that just came and feel the lump settling in your throat. It takes nineteen whole hours for reality to come crashing down my head and I let out one little tear, just to finish up the day's quota.

It takes nineteen hours, 30 minutes and some lingering seconds to stop counting the hours, minutes and seconds and finally take off the wrist watch.

It still takes too many hours, minutes and wasted tears for the world to finally stop.

#Lesson for today: When it hurts, laugh about the weather.

She never felt quite as comfortable in the curves of someone else's body. Does anything else matter, she mused as she felt her grin grow wider with each passing second. Secrets tasted much better than propriety, after all.

#Lesson for today: None, given up.

Of everything the rain isn't yet

And I dreamed of a slippery road,
running uphill when I wanted to go down
a small shack on the edge of the cliff
teetering, almost daring gravity to make it fall
where there is a sad looking boy, a stranger
who'll save me from the ranks of those that
forget to believe in love

And then I dreamed of hands that would
throw little raindrops my way
just because they wanted to move
of steam rising from our cups and
the thousand smoldering fires in the
valley that spun itself around us
and I opened my eyes to find that I was
still on my own
only the dream of happiness had grown

(Click to Enlarge)

#Lesson for today: There are at least two for real Comic Book Guy's out there in the world.

Omelette du Fromage

Lemon Girl is proud to report that she successfully pulled off a delicious cheese omelet at the first try.

#Lesson for today: I may not be able to go back to normal omelettes.

There is the perfect template for me in the designer part of blogger. With lemons and stripes. And it makes me so sad that it does not go along with the feel of the blog.

I wish it did. :(

Whom? Whom?

Douglas Adams said it was Mice, who were secretly controlling mankind.

Tom Holt says it is Frogs.

Whom to believe?

#Lesson for today: Mankind is definitely not controlling mankind.

Meme’d

Ten things you wish you could say to people right now:
~ I don’t like you much.
~ I really miss you but have too much pride to say so
~ I wish you didn’t love somebody else
~ Don’t stop believing in yourself, honey
~ You’re going down the wrong way, you’ll be sorry
~ If only we could spend every.waking.moment. together, I’d be happy
~ Come back please, you’ve been missed
~ Somewhere, there is somebody waiting for you. Patience
~ You make my heart burst into twenty thousand gazillion smiles
~ You do realize that I am always right?

Nine things about yourself:
- I like lemons
- and lemonade
- and animals
- and Questionable Content
- and wear mismatched clothes
- and forget where I was supposed to go
- and can’t get enough of books
- and can be found dancing to funny songs
- and having epiphanies by the hour (or week)

Eight ways to win your heart:
` Love my doggie
` Have good language skills. Good enough to be able to correct me
` Text me crazy lyrics at any point of the day
` Daydream with me, about me, for me
` Be interesting. Tell me what you like, everything. Fromquantamphysicstopoopjokes
` Know that it’s fine if I’m acting crazy. Act with me. Don’t tell me I’m crazy though.
` Don’t be gross. That’s my job.
` Read blog and comment liberally.

Seven things that cross your mind a lot:
- Would this have a Wikipedia entry?
- Oooooh, blog post!
- I am a ninja! I will make you my bitch!
- How did I end up like this? I used to be fine.
- But I’m happy ending up like this, I think.
- I want my own tragic kingdom. Or an hour in Narnia.

Six things you wish you never did:
~ Opened my mouth, to start with.
~ Given people the wrong idea.
~ Given advice
~ Dated (yes, I do regret having those particular boyfriend(s))
~ Stopped dancing
~ Maths

Five turn-offs:
- Over confidence.
- Facebook profiles.
- Thinking you’re already an important part of my life.
- Pragmatism.
- “I don’t read books/like animals”. Go die, fucker.

Four turn-ons:
- Books + Spectacles *drooooool*
- Lack of certain common senses.
- That wild, crazy look in the eyes that says I love you.
- The perfect hug.

Three things you want to do before you die:
- Write a book. A good one. A makes-me-filthy-stinking-rich-yet-the-love-of-all-age-groups one.
- Hug a panda.
- Love, properly.

Two smileys that describe you:
- B-)
- :-> (quite the smug bitch, I can be)

One confession:
I am a ninja. I make people my bitch!

#Lesson for today: Memes. Loath them, dislike them, you can’t ignore them.

Hello

I'm finally over with my internship. Woo-Hoo! What lemontastic lessons did I learn there, you ask?

#1. It is acceptable to use the words boobs on the world page of a newspaper but nowhere else.
(Read As: Indian women are not in possession of them; all foreigners are)

#2. All socialist news will include "Brinda Karat has commented".
(Read As: Only acceptable socialist hottie in our country)

#3. The day feels incomplete if the Maoists/Naxals/Kashmiri Militants didn't do anything news-worthy.
(Read As: This is how we sensationalize newspapers)

#4. Shashi Tharoor + Twitter = Newspaper Fodder
(Read As: He's easy to quote, why waste time anywhere else?)

#5. The AP ministry finds serving gur with tea instead of sugar as the only wholly undeniable proof of corruption.
(Read As: Much of the country is unknowingly corrupt)

#6. Sports story editors must inform the photography department of their stories at the earliest. Only photographs with 'interesting' positions will do.
(Read As: Not so sure myself.)

There were many more interesting instances that I cannot share for fear of my boss stumbling on to this link from my work bench. Don't worry though, I'll be putting them up as soon as I can run down to office and delete the browsing history :D

#Lesson for today: If you don't check on your ability to love every now and then, you may just forget how to.

Oh hell come ring this bell

The only true sign that I am not a delusion trapped in someone else's fantasy is that mosquitoes exist. Nobody cares enough for them, not even enough to let them enter the realms of a tragic kingdom.

Somewhere along the edge of your world, there is a feeling waiting to be found. You almost saw it once, but then the swirling dust storms grabbed it and fled. And then you wait, like a Djinn stuck in time at the same spot for years and years to know what it was. Nothing changes they say, you only change what you felt about it. Wonder once, malice now. Still, a touch of excitement lingers somewhere. One that sends you spiraling away till the earth cracks beneath your feet to make you stop.

And then you wake up, you've fallen out of love. No void to remember it by, just a touch of wanting to hang on longer. Just another day, with a mosquito buzzing near your ear.

#Lesson for today: If you stop caring so much, you'll start to love again.

Grumble

I think the neighbours must think I ritually slaughter peasants/have exceptionally amazing sex every now and then, judging by the sounds coming from my room. Loud screams, with sudden bouts of cheering and then some silence.

But as life would have it, neither of those two particularly appealing things is going on. The loud screams are a result of having gained weight in spite of giving up chocolates/chips/junk food/aerated drinks for a while now. The sudden bouts of cheering happen when a previously hated tee fits perfectly. The silence, when I fall asleep from being a depressive-maniac.

In further uninteresting news, I am yet again stuck at an internship. It has sucked away much of my dry wit and longing to be funny. Explains why you are reading the most boring post of this blog ever.

Except the sex part. Everybody likes sex parts.

#Lesson for today: If there is a God up there, he doesn't like lemons much.

Freud-ness

Lemon Girl: I'm really no good at this. Really. Hitler would have been able to like Jews better than I can do this.

Him: Try again. You can't always keep failing!

Lemon Girl: Brilliant pep talk, you know.

Him: All you have to do is swallow up your ego and whatever it is you want to shout out loud and restrain the need to poke somebody with an ice pick. Can we do it?

Lemon Girl: No, we're fucked.

Him: Dammit! How will you ever have a social life?

Lemon Girl: I'll get therapy.

Him: And what are you doing till then?

Lemon Girl: *has brilliant idea* *starts scrubbing away microscopic particles of dust*

Him: *facepalm*

#Lesson for today: Being anal retentive is a great way to win arguments.

I promise to be nice if you promise to bring me one surprise every day.

The sexy librarian lives no more

So, I'm sitting in the comfort of my room, thinking that it's about time that I should get out there and spend some money when I realize that the roof just might fall on my head any minute and I'll be covered in strawberry coloured paint flakes that will stick on my hair like taffy.

That sucks because I just spent about an hour making sure that my hair looks like that perfect innocent yet sexy librarian every boy wants to get it on with. This look was promptly dismembered by my lovely doggie as I bent to retrieve my slippers from him.

So now I look dismembered and close to that hairy family fella in the Adams Family. This day is not going well. I throw umbrellas up in the air and they land bang on my head.

#Lesson for today: I'm going to be pernicious in relationships from now on.

And even though it means I can pick up six books for the price of one, I curse the people who didn't love their books enough to keep them safe.

It's like browsing for orphans in a crowded market place, where you feel no amount of love can make those books feel truly your's.

#Lesson for today: My alter-ego is delusional.

Confession

Dear Blog Readers,

Lemon Girl is currently crushing on a guy. Real Hard.

Lemon Girl does not know how to, or whether she should tell him at all. Lemon Girl would appreciate some advice.

 

Also, my dear blog readers know the guy.

#Lesson for today: >.<

A hundred miles..

Life is fair and then unkind
And it's left me alone to find
It takes a hundred miles
To have faith in it once more.

Daddy dear, I love you so,
Momma, more than you'll ever know
Even if we're a hundred miles
away from home.

Can it be that we don't fight
And loving you will feel right
Coz my heart is a hundred miles
Away from you.

#Lesson for today: Go listen to 500 Miles by Roseanne Cash. Go now, Shoo!

*cough cough*

#Lesson for today: It is very, very embarrassing to be caught singing 'Promiscuous Girl' out loud inside the metro. Especially when it is with a look of rapt enjoyment on one's face.

Sarcasm, bitch!

Aah, Google Chrome. You bring love to the cockles of my spindly, dank heart.

When you open an incognito window:

Going incognito doesn't affect the behavior of other people, servers, or software. Be wary of:

• People standing behind you

#Lesson for today: This is why I love Geeks, Nerds & Paranoid Androids.

RIP, us.

Did they tell life would be easy an uncomplicated after a point? That friends would last forever and compromises would cease. Did you ever dream of a time, when you would be surrounded by intellectual equals and mad-hatters in a personal wonderland?

It's been two years since college started. It's not any easier and life can only become more tangled in the real world. Compromises I made with people have ceased, only to haunt me back as regrets. How child like I seem to myself, thinking I could be happy with a bunch like them. Poshlust, I believe is what I fooled myself with. It isn't like the girl I knew, to have made friends so easy to let go off.

I miss their presence, yet never our conversations. I miss our sojourns, yet not their alcohol fueled revelations. I miss our togetherness, the way we laughed and the little mannerisms meant only for each other. It's like losing a lover you only loved for the sake of not being lonely. But tell me dear readers, be honest. Am I acting silly, or are some memories simply disposable?

#Lesson for today: There's no point in acting sweet, they can't see through us anyway.

Mise - En - Scene (or Sauuuuun)

A film festival does not just come up on it's own.

It takes a bunch of dedicated & workaholic retards, sitting in front of an apple mac for two whole weeks, munching their way through endless packets of Hide & Seek.

It takes on nutty photoshopper working her way through numerous banners, posters and invites for no particular reason.

It takes one very, very harassed media committee enduring all kinds of insults on the phone.

It takes a hapless food committee running samosas from one place to another.

And let's not forget, your SOUL.

#Lesson for today: Gah!

When Carroll wrote the following

"Question: How does a girl who falls - no, actually she jumps - eyes open down a rabbit hole, plummeting into chaos, come out the other end unchanged?

The Answer: She doesn't.

See, I know, because that girl is me."

He must have known an awful lot about us girls. Because, it seems that we love nothing more than rabbit holes, chaos and jumping into endlessly tiring situations with eyes wide open.

#Lesson for today: Adventure, is where you least expect it.

Did you hear about the lemons?

I get really obsessed once in a while with the lemons. I make families, couples and sweet little children that I refuse to make into lemonade. Then mum scolds me. We now get our to-be-consumed lemons from the market. They're impersonal, it seems.

"Lemon Party"

(I like to use 30 Rock Quotes as much as possible)

#Lesson for today: Lemon Art will be famous one day.

Love again?

What's red & grey, slightly frostbitten and contemplating a pink theme for the mobile?

A girl parading as the lemons she so adores.

Nothing makes me happier than finding a blog, a book or even a simple line that makes me feel like I've known the author forever. Today I found This Dude! :). The guy makes me swoon and kind of feel lovey-dovey. Which consequently is wonderful, since I have decided to get over all my loser ex's and get a new 'un to torture.

It does not help to know that I have become notorious/infamous for my rather off-topic remarks while the environment is romantic. Examples include the term 'germs' being frequently used and seriously considering the effects of Saddam's assassination during romantic activities. Ingrown toe nails have made an appearance as well.

#Lesson for today: Nokia and Ovi Store are a bitch.

Hemorrhoid

I just called one of my friends a Hemorrhoid. I feel awesome. And Witty. And oh-so-pretty.

#Lesson for the day: Friends who let you call them a Hemorrhoid are the ones truly worth keeping. :D

Rambles

Dilli is Chilly right now. Not that I'm noticing it all that much because I've been under a blanket next to a radiator in full force for a majority of the week now. In fact, I've been feasting on all the "Cold-Weather-Food-Specials" that mummy and dad could conjure up for sometime now. No reasons to complain about the weather, so far. And I refuse to believe that Gurgaon is colder than Delhi.

I have this perfect lime coloured sweater that has been evading mother's habit of yearly woolen disposal for the better part of the decade. It's snug and shapeless, just the way I like my woollies. It also has this over powering affinity to all kinds of stains. I wear pure snow-white sweaters for three four days without any sort of dirt sticking onto its surface. The yellow one, on the other hand is sent off to the dry cleaners after a mere six hours of being worn.

It also has come to my attention that this month, my lemon loving-ness will turn a year old. Aah, to be a year old again. I miss all the gurgling and short term memory span.

#Lesson for today: Choosing friends and what food to eat are two of the most difficult choices I face each day.