Saturday, 30 June 2012

A Must Have!

Amarillo todas las!!!!! 

Apparently a long break from writing, eh? 
If you're thinking that I've suddenly turned my blog into a fashion one after reading the title, jump off a hill-top.
And if you thought that this one's not much of a necessity, I'll throw you off one, okay? =P

Considering femininity, there are obviously a lot of must-haves. That's a universal truth there. Again, jump off into a lake if you didn't know that. Alright! Enough of being a sadist! 

Ladies, this is about guys in your life. Yes, I know I'm making them sound like a wardrobe necessity, but aren't they sometimes JUST that? (Okay, guys. Just kidding)
Okay, so let's get down to business!

1) The Boy Toy
From his naughty smile to his utterly deadly panache, you'll find everything about him perpetually insatiable. He's funny, sweet, cute, sexy; and is more manicured and beautiful than you're. Your atmospherics harmony with him is good for a holiday romance, but doesn't it take more than fireworks to make a relationship work? He's the essential best friend in everyone's life. 
Celebrity prototype - Robert Redford



2) The Boyfriend
This one's for keeps. He's the one who leaves you romantic notes and quotes Keats, brings flowers (I'll kill mine if he does so!), reads poems to you, reads your bed-time novel to you, attends to you while you're sick, and cooks when you're lazy. Closest to being the answer to your prayers, he reminds you of home - the boy you can proudly show off to your mother. 
Celebrity prototype - Jonathan Rhys Meyers

Real life prototype - Haven't known like him yet!

3) The Bad Boy 
He's the rebel of the lot. Iconoclastic and inflamed, he leads life on his own terms. He won't open car doors for you, or take you to fancy places, but he'll thrill you with his illusion of freedom. He's dangerous and heart-achingly irresistible. After all, can we women defy the urge to fix damaged goods? 
Celebrity prototype - James Dean



4) The Father Figure
Rock solid, he's the one you always rely on. Whether it's personal or some random advice, he'll be a hands-on help. You trust each other whole-heartedly. He loves you unconditionally and always has your back. 
Celebrity prototype - George Clooney

Real life prototype - Anirudh (Sharma)

5) The Standby
The quintessential Mr. Nice Guy. He never plays hard to get, is always around, and makes you laugh more than any other person you know. He genuinely respects you and tries to meet you halfway. Although his affability often leaves you wondering if he wants to be more than just friends, you pretend o be clueless because you value his dependability. 
Celebrity prototype - Matthew McConaughey



6) The Blast From Past
He's the ex you wish you'd never let go off. He fills you up with more passion than any other you've known. He is always the one introducing you to various phases of life, take you to the moon and back. He's the bad-boy-in-love scenario gone abso-flippin'-lutely right! You always bump into him, and by God, one look at him is never, mind you, never enough! He looks sexy even while cutting off the weeds (basketball in my case, both of them. =P) in his lawn. He fits your definition of Greek God, and tops your Fantasy List!
Celebrity prototype - Ryan Reynolds



Ain't I just awesome? You know I'm. YOU KNOW IT! =P
That's all for now, companeros! And Banerjee, I hope you enjoyed it! 

See you around, fellas!
Tener cuidado! :*

P.S. Any more of must-have guys in your mind, let me know. I'll update it! =D

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Chitti Chitti Bang Bang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! =P


Apart from the ultra-boring life that I’m currently leading since past couple of weeks, well companeros, I got into Sushant School of Art and Architecture. *dances her ass off*

You know those heart wrenching movies like The Day After Tomorrow and Alien vs Predator or Bourne Ultimatum?
Well as interesting they sound and look, and although I'd loved these movies to death, they ring multiple insanity bells in my head.


The Day After Tomorrow.
Day after I'll be in my den, sipping fresh watermelon crush and reading yet another novel (just by the way I finished One Night in Rio this afternoon).
Even though directed with great effects, with an even greater crew, the film manages to make me poop some times.
Even though the water level rose enough for half the Manhattan towers to be submerged, the public library somehow manages to have the water be held back only to the ground floor. Although the water force was considerable enough to not shatter the statue of liberty in fine shreds, it still leaves its torch out to provide enough heat to the hero when he walks to the ship in a weather that's freezing buildings in and out, but only ices his moustache which is hardly there. And for further convenience, there's a ship right outside the building for the Captain knew that the lead actress was probably going to be infected with septicaemia and the hero would rush to her rescue, and even fight the wolves for her, who actually came out of zoo and directly into the ship, love-biting the hero's sidekick friend.

Although Jake Glyllenhaal is mind-numbingly, heart-achingly adorable, he falls for a plain Jane who's so nerdy, it hurts. I mean, come on? What was the need to even make him love her? So he could go up to New York for a stupid quiz competition, stick his ass there with ice, fight with wolves, remain unaffected by snow, fill in loads of penicillin than any ship bounds to contain, and then practically have his Dad walk in ice all the way across the States. They didn't even forget to include a tornado, which along with half of LA, destroys the proud Hollywood. I'm sure Marilyn Monroe was booing her ass of, while her skirt still flew with the effect of the strong currents tornado. Even though the "solar output" was normal, and the south was warm, our dear Surya Dev failed to melt the ice. Speaking of south, Mexico was the only country the entire States was running to.




How can I EVER, EVER forget this man? Yes, yes, he's the one who, when buffed up, would resemble the worst case scenario of a John Cena twin.
No, idiota! He's an ex-CIA assassin who eludes the entire Moscow police, puts CIA on the line, and whose girlfriend is shot dead in the head and thrown in a river in which she's eaten up by the piranhas.
He flees with an ex-Treadstone technician, who seems to have a secret code for every situation. She keeps exchanging looks with Bourne, like they'd jump to bed any time of the day, but chooses to climax just at the mere sight of her. So charming that he's, he even makes CIA agent have a change of heart, who in turn breaks the bubble of a fellow CIA agent who probably eats omelettes instead of chicken carricatores for lunch, and might have even dated Pamela if she didn't fall for Bourne's unbecoming charm.
And then Bourne is actually Tom Cruise from "Knight and Day" (Yes yes, the "with me, without me" guy who's married to a woman taller than her, with a daughter who has more style statement than Lady Gaga), since he swims for three days at a stretch without being detected as a strangely huge human shaped shark.



Coming to Die-Hard 4, it had broken my heart. So much love that I had for the trilogy! Bruce Willis jumps off cars, hits a helicopter bang on, fall from at least a 50ft high flyover, fights with the villain's sidekicks, protects a kid, protects her frequently-surname-changing daughter from the villain who might have raped her to avenge his girlfriend's death, and even shoots himself in the shoulder so that the bullet goes through him and pierces the villain's shoulder and kills him in an instant. Why did he even need to uplift such nuisances for such an incompetent villain.

So as simple as it may sound,

1) The aliens and specially-able creatures have some personal grudges with the US, and they decide upon stealing resources solely from this continent.

2) Everyone in Hollywood is Rajnikanth. They can fight, kill, dance, play every sport, and still manage to look like Greek Gods. [No offence to Sir Rajnikanth who was so smart in Robot that he created a way to plant a seed in his lover's womb that would produce a robot cum human baby (no he wouldn't look like Harvey Dent), and still have an ambical cord attached with his mother when he'd be delivered]

3) The Predators even befriended humans for the sake of killing Aliens. Talk of egoistic pride! And the predator would be a little more inclined towards the Black woman (maybe he thought they were long lost siblings) who was so thankful to the director  to have given her a film after she starred in the Scary Movie.

4) If the hero wants to jump from continent to continent to claim the woman he loves, he'll be served with instant cross-country flights without suffering any Visa problems. (Maybe because he has Mastercard =P)

5) The heroine is always going to be a damsel in distress. Meryl Streep, salute! And teenagers are permitted to lose their virginity at the age of 15, even when they don't drive a car!

6) Even if the heroine is a tough gut agent or a spy, she flinches and melts at the mere touch of the hero, who's perpetually the only lover she's had, well because she's a nerd at school and happily ever after is treated more than just a ritual. And he's also the only one she ever desires or finds sexy, and gives away her virginity too! I tell you, US should probably cut down on their Mills&Boons!

7) Every other person in US is an undercover agent. And the best friend of the hero dies saving him and his lady love, because he's always secretly in love with the heroine.

8) Every mutant, superhero, or any random chuchcha bitten by a bug would be found in US. They even have museums where inanimate creatures come to life only when Satan starts to roam the streets of New York!

Moral? Next time, you feel like making fun of Bollywood, remember - every person in the States is Rajnikanth.


*Sigh* See you! Lots and lots and lots of love. And some extra love to NG and Ajay! I don't know how they knew that I'd probably score well both in Boards and college! You guys are awesome! =D
Tener cuidado. :*

Monday, 11 June 2012

Maybe Not Enough....

We at times predicate it's enough to tell people plainly we love them to make them feel assured, to say the least.
I don't suppose it's at all erroneous when they say that you value one when they've left you.


It's the void. That big black, empty cavity. There are times when you wish to plunge into the annulment and grab them back. Things start seeming all the more glossy when you try holding onto them. It's like a tug of war. the harder you pull, the harder is the possibility for you to fall on your back, and hurt yourself. 


We grow adroit when it comes to shelling our back from reality. We pretty easily convince ourselves that everything we have will be lasting forever. 


I lost my Nanaji today. I don't have a grandfather figure any more. The last thing I'm going to cherish is his proud voice a couple of weeks back, when he called me after my Board results were released. The time I spent with him, is untouchable. 
All I felt today was regret, to not have had spent enough time with him. All what he taught me, is crystal clear in my mind, and always will be.





 Sorry companeros! But his absence is biting me hard.
Tener cuidado! 

Saturday, 2 June 2012

The Hidden Of Me...

Amarillo todas las....!!!!!!!!!
So apparently, Joyous June, Day2 is here here here here! 
No entrances plus joblessness is going to get the better of me, I guess!
And today's inspiration is here...


Subsurface secrets
Lying hidden in our souls
Stories left untold

So companeros, my first attempt at a Haiku. Guide me, if you predicate I should surpass.
See you around, companeros! 
Tener cuidado. :*

Friday, 1 June 2012

I Am.

Amarillo todas las....!!!!!
So Kanika changed Jaunty June to Joyous June (I think Jaunty sounded sexy =P)
And today's inspirations is....


Accommodating with yourself can seem quite a job, indeed! There always seem to be two parts of you - an entombed and an emancipated. 


I'm seeking to exonerate, to this one rim of me. It's trapped. Pinned down to the mere mercy of my existence. Each fraction of me tortured to not live. My thoughts aren't my own, my heart isn't my own. They luxuriate my brain like an android. My own breath is no more a witness, for I'm pronounced comatose. Their conviction is contagious - for I feel hollow and futile. Everything passes through me like an X-ray through a bone. 


I'm seeking to fly, with this one rim of me. It tells me it's okay. It says it's okay to have a heart ache. It tells me it's okay to dwindle. It's tells me to slow down if my ideas aren't working. It has allowed me to open up - to know that there's life under the earth and I have to let it come through me in a new way. It tells me that it has colours. Colours, my eyes would soothe onto. It tells me to withdraw my fears, they're unserviceable. It asks me, why is it that hate comes out so easily...but love? It remains trapped inside. And here I'm, trapped in the amber of the moment.  There is no why. The reflection of it encapsulated the love. It only seems hollow.


Accommodating with yourself can seem quite a job, indeed! There always seem to be two parts of you - an entombed and an emancipated. 


So I'll see you around companeros!
Tener cuidado. And do read Kanika's post tonight. She's a bloody good writer!