Sports, men and excitement!

Alright, a little break from the senti posts..

About the IPL madness : What is it that makes cricket such an exciting game? Especially for men? Well, I find absolutely nothing special in such a lazy game. Maybe well, cheerleaders are exciting but then men can always watch porn instead :P I certainly see no reason why cheerleaders with bouncing boobs and flashy cleavages are required to make the "gentleman's game" more interesting. :D

Football, and tennis, are the good games with well, very cute-looking men.. ;-) My favourite team is Arsenal but Christiano Ronaldo is cute. really cute.

And tennis.. ooooohhh! Federer is cool! awesome! And one mister nadal is also cute! :D

Btw, I must have sounded like a bimbette all of this post, but, I actually play tennis and squash. So, I am not that bad. :-)
And well, about cute men, who can resist! ;-)

Wavessss...

When feelings act like tides,

Inside you, that special emotion hides,

You cant get rid of it, nor can you embrace it,

The toughest is getting oneself to admit.

It is probably important to acknowledge,

Something, I’ve learnt after coming here to college,

Say it aloud, speak it out,

For its a sin, to keep yourself in doubt.

As is obvious, all good things are tough,

You can never coax yourself enough,

When love strikes you like a wave,

Only telling him will get you save(d).

Why I blog?

Today, in a very philosophical mood (thats so totally me! :P ) , I was wondering
why I write a blog.

I am not sure, but I feel some sort of closure. I know nobody reads it, but writing helps me clear up my head, give a better direction to my thought and in some cases, wrap up the confusion that has always been there in my life.

Anyway, I'll be off now..
More updates later..

ze Dude!

Alright, for the purpose of this blog, the dude mentioned in this post shall henceforth be known as Rohan (or Rohu, as I prefer to call him sometimes :D )

And he's an absolute sweety-pie. Compliments me all the time, clearly mad after me, but well, a bit shy at times.

Btw, he's amazingly intelligent. And somehow, he just knows what am thinking! :-)

Flashback 2

I must have been around 12 or 13 or maybe 14.. actually, doesn't matter.. this happened all the time.

And as I type this, I have no good polished way of telling. But I hope you understand that getting locked up in a room for hours, slapped, and worse humiliated aren't the easiest of things to write about.

And I can still see him in my dreams. nightmares.

Sometimes, I just hate my dad.

And I am back!

Lately, I've managed to submerge myself in trivial silly things like studies and been very ignorant towards my blog and its non-existent readership. Just finished my final year-end exams, hence was busy last few days. But I hope to be coming online everyday for next few days around this time...

I hope to be recounting my experiences with love and life.. hope you enjoy them (or I enjoy them 20 years down the line when I am married and all that :D ) ..

Ciao!

Say it!

I wonder how simpler and easier life could have been, if people could say things frankly, honestly and from the heart. Without hesitation, doubt or fear of rejection. I wish!

Dude (Ummm.. you deserve a post too, I'll write about you sometime soon :-) ), you also know what your heart is saying.
Say it!
(For the uninformed, refer to this post)

Am waiting.. and waiting.. ! :-)

Flashback 1

It was a long time ago. I must have been just 8 or 10 years old. Ummm.. I was in class 4 then, yeah
10 years old.

Our whole family had caught viral fever. Dad had got it first. Then, in a few days, bhaiya, mom and me all went down with viral at the same time. By then, Dad had got slightly better. I remember, me and bhaiya had only slight fever while mom was the worst off. I remember Dad keeping awake for her all the time, bringing hot soup, medicines, steam, etc for us and her day and night. This was despite the fact that he hadn't got completely well. And as we later came to know, he still had fever but he didn't tell us because he didn't want mom to worry.

I remember his devotion. His love.

This was real love.

Ahem ahem.

Btw, did I tell you?

I think I am in love. (again?)

Ummm.. I don't know symptoms and all, but frankly, it feels wonderful. :-)

More about it later!

Ciao.

Main zindagi ka saath nibhati chali gayi...

They smoke, to feel the haze,

to get a feeling of daze

fire ablaze.

But its just a maze.

The Angel says.

Its just a phase.

When you feel the craze.

Let me rephrase.

It kills, forget the praise.

Please change your ways

God damn it, its not just a turn-off,

Its gonna kill you one of these days.

When it hurts to be alive.

I never knew it would hurt so much.

I broke up with him in anger. But I cried in despair. I broke up because I felt disgust, but I hurt myself to feel the real pain. I broke up with wrath gushing through all my senses, now I felt numb.

Then, I felt dumb.

The guilt hurt me much more than pain ever could. He did do something wrong, but to everyone, I was the one who broke up. I was the one who left him stranded. Everyone said.. "She knew he flirted with girls. Whats wrong with that? Afterall, he loved her."

But noone saw my side of the story. That he lied to me. He kept things hidden from me. And he became very very possessive about me too. I felt uncomfortable with him. That doesn't happen in love, right?

But they said.. "Ahh, you are naive. Its your first time. Thats why you felt so insecure. And he just picked up a line from a movie, whats the big deal? Atleast he made you realise! He helped you come out of your shell..".

And I thought.. What if they are right? What if he was right all the time? Did he deserve it? He must have felt hurt too..

But I knew my heart didn't lie to me either. I needed my space. I needed honesty.

He must be hurt too.. I can't do a thing about it now either. I am not even sure why I liked him in the first place. But, I feel guity too..

Vacillating between guilt and self-denial, I was a nervous wreck.. I cried for hours every night, felt afraid to tell anybody, and even tried to cut myself one or two times. Thank god, I didn't, for am so afraid of blood, I couldn't think about showing it to my mom, for she knows I hate seeing blood. And the story would come out, and I just couldn't share all this with anyone then. I needed time for myself, I thought I would be able to deal with it myself..

They say, time heals.. Let me tell you, it doesn't.

I wasted one complete year in this. Fucked up my Board exams, and a half of the first year at college..

They are so difficult to erase. The emotional scars.

The first isn't necessarily the best.

Did I mention in my last post that he was a Casanova?

Hmmm..

Yes, indeed he was.

During the time that the handsome-est guy in the class dated me, he was also going out for "coffee and notes" with two other girls.

Sonofabitch.

He did defend himself, telling it was just notes, they were just old friends, and I was totally head over heels in love, believed him.

One day, I was telling Swati, my best friend then, about those eye-opening lines he said. The lines he made me remember every time, before I kissed him. He claimed it came from his heart and I felt that every time I kissed him. Every time I was with him, I felt fresh, thinking this guy was my saviour. The love I had always yearned for.

And then I got the biggest shock of my life, when Swati said.. "Ummm.. I dont know how to tell you this. But I've heard these lines before. They are from that movie Before Sunrise."

And again am stunned.
The next day, I somehow get my hands on this movie. Watch it three times.

And thus, within two weeks of getting my extremely-sloppy-first-time-kiss, I break up with the guy who I thought was the love of my life.

It was the first time.

First love? Was it?

I was seventeen. He was eighteen. 12th standard. I was the teachers' favourite, hardworking, good girl. He was the casanova of the class. Slightly out of his mind, but extremely smart with words and birds.

No wonder I fell for him.

He asked me to go out for coffee with him. Obviously, I wasn't an easy fish. I said No.

Two days later, he caught me staring at him during the sports period. I blush. He smiles. I blush again. After school, he again asks me out. And again I said no.

A week later. Scores of Maths class test are announced. His disappointing grades have resulted in him being asked to sit with me in the class in the first row. At that moment, I am not sure if he's blushing harder for being asked to sit in the first row or I am blushing harder for getting the chance of a lifetime. *giggles*

Next Maths class, I catch him almost twiddling with my hair :-)
But, I am strict in these matters.
So, what do I do? Scold him? Complain to the teacher? Call his parents??
Nope. I pass him a chit of paper which says.. "Will you please stop doing that? I can't concentrate on complex numbers like this!" He replies on the same chit.. "Stop doing what?". I reply.. "You know what!!" And he turns to me, knocks on my head, and says.. "I wish I could. But I don't know how to stop falling in love with you!"

At that moment, I am not sure whether to slap him or kiss him. Instinct supported the first, while my heart cheered for the latter. Thankfully (or maybe not), like in movies, the bell rang, he got up, said .. "I'll see you later..", gives his amazingly sexy smile, and is gone. Bunking rest of the day's classes. I guess, attending Maths class while bunking all others is his way of showing admiration for me. I am impressed ;-)

Later, a few days before the pre-board exams, I had to call him for getting my maths notebook back. He seemed to be in his chirpy flirtatious mood again. And he asked me out again. Just as I was rehearsing and going through my excuse list, he says this to me..

"You need to resign yourself to the awkwardness of life. Only if you find peace within yourself will you find true connection with others."

I am stunned. Speechless. Battling the instinct to tell him to go to tell, I think.. How true. My life and attitude is all messed up. This is exactly what I needed to hear. After a few moments, I complete the conversation about the maths notebook. Just before he's about to say bye, I suggest him to come to CCD close to the school.

Thats where the notes were exchanged.
Thats where I realized I was being very very rude all the time.
Thats where I realized he was not a Casanova after all.
Thats where, over a cup of hot chocolate, I fell in love.

Thats where (well, just outside the CCD actually),

I had my first kiss.

Special, huh?

This first post is supposed to be special. Right?

Well, this blog is going to be about my life, what I would want it to be, how it turns out, boys (ofcourse!), love, stories, and well.. everything else as well :)

Btw, about me : I am daydreamer, I think too much, and I love to fall in love.

Also, I am a girl, and am twenty. I guess, thats all you need to know.