
In rememberance of some of the silly things that make college life memorable.
We were a group of twittering first year girls hanging outside our classroom during short break in our very first few months in college. Since the fear of ragging had subsided considerably and we were slowly getting to know the rest of the guys, we girls stood joking and laughing in the corridor as hordes of other first years passed us by.
Although nobody knew how it happened, we found ourselves ogling at the guys passing by; the ones we fancied getting showered with smiles from all around along with nods of pretty girls’ heads. The lesser in the ranks were not given so much as a second glance. One thing led to another and it all avalanched into a rating game. (I have a sneaky feeling that I had a lot to do with spearheading the issue but its all a blur now, thanks to 10 years since then and now)
Soon, the cute guys were being given thumbs up and full points, amidst major giggling, while others were being thumbed down with a sad shake of the head. Thats how we passed 10 minutes of the intended short break. The rated guys were also flashing smiles all around and strutting happily as far as one remembers. It was all a harmless time pass which for once, the girls were taking lead of. And that was that. Or so we believed.
Apparently not all the guys who passed by were freshers like us. There were some seniors too - but - they too didnt look like they minded our silly game and were finding it quite amusing. And that was that. Or so it was believed.
Unfortunately some senior guys, who probably felt left out when they heard the story later on were supposedly startled to actually hear that a group of guys (junior or senior, who cares) were disrespected by a bunch of junior first year girls whose ragging period had hardly gotten over and who should have known better than insult people like that - how dare they!
So after a major overnight brainwashing session by the seniors, a group of angry first year guys (most of whom weren’t even present the previous day) formed a huge crowd on the Rajpath to intercept the girls to teach them a lesson. While they did blast some unfortunate girls passing by early in the morning - including one innocent day scholar who hadnt been one of us - but by the time we reached the crowd, there was a frantic scattering of all the guys as they quickly ran for their life. Puzzled, we looked around and saw the head of security walking cluelessly behind us. And surprisingly enough, that was finally that.

What a match! Jo Wilfried Tsonga was better than superb and I was cheering in his corner when Novak Djokovic upped him (and how) in the finals. I’m having a hard time remaining Federer’s loyal fan with these two fast rising titans on the scene.
Major disappointment to watch Sania and Bhupathi lose the Mixed Doubles in the finals. Better luck next time. Now all there’s left to watch on tv is Ms Saroj Khan teaching me how to dance like Madhuri Dixit on NDTV’s newest channel Imagine. I know the full song for Ek Do Teen by now
The Djoker wins in three straight sets. How unbelievable is that. This is too much.
I dont know whether to be amused or insulted by this one. Or realize that maybe this’s an indication for me to stop taking silly online tests?

A painful memory vexed me into writing this post. Please to not gauge my mood or sense of self depreciation by this one post only.
You think you’re respecting me by calling me this name - but I have news for you. I dont need no respect and I dont need anyone reminding me I am getting older by the day: I am not your auntie.
You think by bumping into me or stepping on my toes, you’re doing the right thing by apologizing profusely, therefore calling me this name - but I dont need no apologies and I dont need anyone to put iodised salt on my wounds: I am not your auntie.
You think that if I help you get the right direction or pick up jetsam from your bag, you’d want to thank me by calling me this name - I dont need a fake relationship or an overgrown niece. Therefore, I am definitely not your auntie.
You think since you’re a teenager or someone emaciated enough to look like one, you qualify in calling all and sundry by this name - have I got a newsflash for you: sooner or later you would so understand what I’m talking about and I wait earnestly for that day.
So after evidently bearing the brunt of how it feels like to be on the other side of the early twenties, I take this opportunity to apologise all the people I myself called aunties and uncles while my brain had not fully developed 10 years back. I wish I myself had read something like this way back… I wouldnt have even dreamt of calling my own auntie one.
Watched Australian Open from morning to midnight. Got a near heart attack when Federer nearly got knocked out by that upstart Tipsarevic, cried along with Baghdatis when he lost… poor thing. Also felt sorry for Roddick and Safin when they both lost. Although my point is - I dont see why the guys bother playing at all when we all know (especially me) that Federer will win the tournament anyway.
Read a lot of books, watched a lot of movies - the usual. Its good to be back to work and blogging respectively.
You said, I said