B.R.A. -Battle Ready Armour

Who the hell said bra's are not of any use except from stopping your breasts from jiggling?

Ok, that might be the case with ordinary bra's but not this woman's!
This 57 yr old woman is still alive because of her Bra.
She had spotted a couple of 16 yr olds breaking into her neighbours place in the morning, and when they saw her, they shot at her.
And Super Duper Under-wired Bra successfully deflected the bullet, thus saving the woman's life! (yup, she was injured, but she didn't atleast die)

The detroit police sgt says that they should get bullet-proof vests made of that wire, and i dunno why, but i find the idea slightly creepy.

Apr 15

I just had another dream.
And it was bad. It wasn't that frightening, but the atmosphere of this one... Was full of dread.
All dreams have a feeling, a major one that is omnipresent. This one had dread.
I'm writing this so that i don't forget what the dream was about or forget to write it and because i want to tell someone, even if, no one may actually read this.
It majorly had-
dread
a spaceship
stones
my class-upasna (goes home), dhobi n gobhi
sam
the dude i hate (to be called D henceforth)
a friend of mine, male (to be called p henceforth)
some lessons
stones+cars
hate
more dread

enough dread to keep me shaking even after i woke up, and going and hugging my mom in my sleep. I dunno what i was frightened of, but i walked extremely slowly and cautiously around the house. I was afraid. Very afraid.
I'll describe the dream when i get back. I gotto take a bath and get ready for school.
If i recover completely, maybe i won't describe the dream at all. :)


a frightening thought- the feelings can leak out of dreams

Recipe- song a la crap

Ways to destroy a song-

requirements-
1 good song by a famous composer. For best effects, select a fresh one, on which the composer has worked hard.
1 composer, who won't complain about the shit his song will endure
2 awards
1 irritating slut group
3 jars of vela news channels
2 sucky campaign managers


STEP 1:
make the song as famous as possible by adding 2 awards to the composer in a bowl. To initiate the process of making the song irritating, add the 3 jars of vela news channels who will play the song as background music for every news possible (cricket match victories,awards,shoke sabhas,a dog's marriage to a tree).
Continue stirring till the public is completely pissed with the song and turns a light red (with anger). Ensure that the public loses all real appreciation for the lyrics and tune and composer.


STEP 2
Hand out the song to a slut group so they can make a remix. Add seductive words and 3 1/2 pounds of raw flesh (comes free with slut group). Garnish with dumb lines till song is repulsive enough to make you puke.
(suggested garnishing- "just keep it burnin, yeah baby, just keep it comin...")


STEP 3
Take 2 sucky campaign managers who have no intelligible ideas. Allow them to remix the song as to promote their parties. This can be done in two ways-
1) by criticising the government through the lyrics (if you were not the government) and blaming them for every calamity, accident, wardrobe malfunction on ramp, your dirty restroom, any disease and/or any other mortal sin.
2) by praising the goverment in the lyrics and flashing weird pictures of your party leaders, flags, supporters, animals and toilet paper rolls in the video. (if you were the government last time)
Then, pay some of the afore mentioned vela news channels to play these videos instead of commercials. Ensure they are popular so that there is maximum destruction.
Suggested garnishing-recession hit public


Congratulations. You just beat the crap of a really good song.

Dreams

Does anyone know how to stop yourself from dreaming?
No, not day-dreaming.... The sleep dreams.
Can you stop them? I'll probably go mad if i can't.

Today i dreamt that my grandma died.
Before that i dreamt of something just as freaky.
The day before i had a dream inside a dream inside a dream. And i was asleep for just 1 1/2 hrs. And the dream wasn't pleasant.
Sometime before that, i dreamt of being convicted for a crime i hadn't done and someone dying. I woke up crying.


Someone make it stop. Please.

P.S. I've decided to keep a dream diary from now on and record my dreams before i forget them and also how frequently i dream.
If i sleep less than i do now, will it stop? I sleep 5 hrs nowadays.

E-coli

Two cells of E. coli were wandering slowly
Down the gastrointestinal tract.
An F+ was he, an F- was she,
And their membranes were bound to attract.

Now the dainty F- was born in a sinus
Where her members did seldom trespass,
But the brawny F+ was spawned in some pus,
And produced both acid and gas.

A kiss he had stolen, down deep in the colon;
"Don't touch me", she said, "or I'll scream!
I have no protection, and an F+ infection
Would spoil my maidenly dream."

So the poor lonely fella withdrew his flagella
And worshipped her from afar;
"At least", he said, "wait, till I can mutate
And come back an HFR.


Muhahahahahahaha.
I totally love this poem, I dunno where it came from, but is most probably off the net. We found it in one of the files in the pen drive Kusum ma’am gave us.
I like it, its funny, so we’re putting it in the bio magazine too(Nayani was against it first, saying that its too “suggestive”) .Since we’re all naughty kids, who really don’t need any xxx-type thoughts about e-coli cells, I changed the para, to make it decent enough to pass our censor board (aka, the HOD)
So now the para goes like:
A kiss he had stolen, down deep in the colon;
"Stay away", she said, "or I'll scream!
I don’t want your attention, as an F+ infection
Would spoil my maidenly dream."

Soom- breath

Breath is a…complicated movie. Its weirdly incomplete, but inspite of that I like it. Everything has been portrayed awesomely though.
The script lacks a lot of dialogues, but I think it went great without them.
It has been nominated for the Palme d’Or. It’s a Korean movie by some Kim kin-duk (I think).
The main lead is Jin, a person who has been sentenced to death for some crime. He appears in the news due to his attempt at suicide using the sharpened end of a toothbrush (which one of his other inmates used to scratch images on the wall with), and jabbing at his throat. Blood squirts at the face of X (the artist) and Y inmate screams his head off.
Jin’s vocal chords are thus conveniently damaged, rendering him mute for the whole film (convenient, as the actor playing Jin didn’t know Korean anyway).
Jin appears on the news, and we’re informed that his date of death has been extended due his second suicide attempt, where Yian (female lead) sees him. She is a sculptor with a kid and a husband (lets call him Pig), who has been cheating.
Following a fight, she impulsively leaves the house in the middle of the night and goes to the jail where Jin is staying.
She asks to see him, claiming to be his ex-gf. She is allowed by the Boss of the jail (whose face is not shown, just a hazy reflection of his face, as he watches the interactions between Jin and Yian on a TV through the security cameras- I think he’s just plain perverted).
Jin and Yian meet with a glass barrier with tiny holes between them. He doesn’t say a word-just watches her intently and curiously. She talks, she told him how once she’d been dead for 5 minutes as a child. She and her friends were holding their breath for fun and she said that she remembers what it felt like-sometimes. She said it wasn’t bad. She requests him not to hurt himself anymore. He breaks one hair off her and examines it silently. Before he is dragged off, he plants a breathy kiss on the glass.

Yian visits again. This time, there’s no glass. She’s covered the walls of the meeting room with paintings of flowering meadows and is wearing a summer dress, even though it is snowing outside. The whole scene is a stark contrast from the rest of the movie, which is full of dull colors, maybe mirroring her empty life-SPRING She sings a song a song for him and causes him to break into a small smile (AWWWW!!!!). They then sit down. She speaks. He listens. She tells him about her memories of spring, as he slowly extends his hands towards her face, watching her with a strange intensity. He comes closer and closer to her face. Perverted man rings the bell to end the meeting. Jin is dragged away.
She tears her paintings off the wall, crying. She burns them in a dustbin.

She returns a few days later. SUMMER. Repeat performance themed summer. She talks. He stares intently. Then they kiss passionately.
When she returns, Pig gets mad at her and asks her where she’d been disappearing. He says that she’s been neglecting the household and the kid and says that he fulfilled her duties even when he was cheating.
Its weird. God knows why Yian goes to meet Jin, because of jealousy or boredom or lack of a social life or out of revenge Also, throughout the movie, she doesn’t say a word to Pig, while Jin doesn’t speak to her...

So, she ignores Pig and goes to meet Jin again. AUTUMN. The paintings are of a beautiful mountain. Jin stands near her painting of a tree and watches her sing. This time they don’t sit. Yian takes his handcuffed hands, and puts them over her head so that she’s trapped between his arms. She tells him that she once met a man under a similar tree on a mountain. She loved him (Pig). They kiss.
Pig had followed her and sees them kissing from Pervert’s office.
Pig tells her to stop meeting Jin and says he’ll stop his affair too. They yell. Fight. Now we find out that Jin was in jail as he’d killed his wife and daughters. This comes as a surprise, totally different from the loving and calm Jin we’d come to know. She agrees because of their kid. Pig goes to meet Jin and tells him she won’t come anymore. Jin attempts suicide the third time with the sharpened toothbrush(not very effective is it?).
Yian sees this on TV, Pig tries to change the channel, but she throws a glass at his head (nice one). She later goes to him and kisses him, but he ends up pushing her away. I suppose he gets it then that they really don’t belong together.
She goes to the jail. Pig drops her. He and kid build snow-men outside as she visits.
There’s no singing or paintings this time. Just the stark white walls, similar to the dull snow outside. They make out, with a desperate touch this time.
They all go home.
The end.
Pretty pointless, I agree. But its been shot beautifully. The strange …love (call it what u want) between Jin and Yian is fascinating. I don’t really get it. And though the movie seems very incomplete, I still like it. The weird romance and the strange acceptability shown by Jin is mystifying. I really can’t explain it. The movie sets you off thinking in various directions. The romance might have existed cause Yian wanted revenge at her hubby and because Jin was grabbing at any chances to live a bit more and was plain bored at the jail.
Or it could be because of the soulmate thing… they just saw each other and knew they belonged together. No questions asked.

I like the idea of that. Just seeing someone and knowing you belong together.
Then staying together.
Forever.
No questions asked.

Extract- Does My Head Look Big In This?

Aw. This book is really nice. Its called “Does My Head Look Big In This?” by Randa Abdel-Fattah. Its about this muslim girl in Australia, who studies at a stuck-up grammar school called McCleans. No big deal. But then, she decides to start wearing the hijab full time. The book is about all the probs she has and how she handles them. the book discusses prejudices and serious topics like this in a very…cool manner. They come up in Amal (main lead)’s daily life, and she talks about it in her own witty-wise way. She’s pretty funny and makes you think a lot without being too serious or feel like you’re being preached on how to treat muslims. Nice.

I’m fond of one particular para in the book, which could be credited for me liking the book overall:
Amal (hijab-wearing muslim girl, victim of prejudiced thoughts) and Simone (“oh-my-god-I’m-fat-because-I’m-not-stick-thin-so-I’m-horrible-inspite-of-being-damn-beautiful” girl, victim of society. Oh well, aren’t we all…)
“
Simone shrugs her shoulders. “Yeah, well, it’s probably true…sometimes I start a diet and then I open a Cosmo or a Cleo and there are these articles about pregnant superstars losing thirty kilos in two or three months and here I am struggling to lose a kilo. So I give up and demolish a Mars bar. Or I see all these model shoots of these gorgeous beach babes with their bones poking into my hand when I turn the pages and I think, what’s the point? Even if I lose ten kilos and was in my weight-height ratio, people would still consider me fat. I wish I could be anorexic. How sick is that, huh? But I don’t have the self-control to live off a lettuce leaf a day. And I’ve tried the whole bulimia thing but I can’t even throw up. I’m just pathetic! Abnormal!”
“You know what? Who cares what normal is, Simone. Let’s protest. From now on we’re anti-normal, anti-average, anti-standard. You can eat when you want to, I’ll wear what I want to, and we’ll die with a packet of chips in our hand and a tablecloth on our head.”
"

Um

My blog has had no aim or apparent…um…theme till now. Now, I’ve decided to make it into an anti-anti-muslim blog.

No, its not sudden, its just been a process.

#1 I suppose it began with my darling grandmother, aka Dadi, coming over. She stayed for a couple of days, and well, I suddenly noticed the complete absence of spiritualism or any kind of feeling of religious duty etc. etc. I also noticed the lack of…I dunno how to put it.
Well, when we were kids, we were always preached about being good and not lying, god watching us, our duties, to be nice to everyone, being polite and helpful and all the good things which make me want to puke. I sort of lost touch of all that, forgot about it. Probably because I’m not constantly reminded to be like that anymore. Whatever, she told me stories of Prophet Mohammad, reminded me to help my mother when I could, reading the Koran after the exams (I’m getting an English version, Dadi approves) etc.
My mother used to tell me all that too, but being the rebel I was (/am) I ran away from all of it, without any reason. I refused to pray, to read the Koran or listen to her. What a brat. Point is,I realize the importance of it all now.

Ok maybe not, but now I’ve started to think, Why not? I’ve been disrespecting an awesome chance I’ve been getting. I rejected it all without trying it. Its cool you know, to learn to read Arabic, know verses, to…dunno. I’m frankly curious about my own religion which I have blatantly ignored till now.


#2 Then, HT started an article series about the Godhra riots that happened years back. It plain freaks me out. Being hunted down, being killed, even worse, being raped, even worse, watching your family being killed or raped. Just because you belong to some other community. It’s usual for us all to read about killings in the papers without batting an eyelid, as it is for me. But I sort of am more terrified about this because…well, I sort of know how it feels. I used to have a few dreams about being chased by someone. I was in this block of apartments, which was completely empty. I’d keep running, then try to hide, try to bunch myself in the tiniest possible space, hold my breath. But I knew in the end he’d find me. And that wouldn’t be good.
Ok, maybe you don’t understand, but there is this horrible dread of being caught…its terrifying…
Whatever. Point is, I understand. And its unfair that some innocent people were pinpointed and killed just because they were muslim…they had to run for their lives…they lost everything they had…their own childhood friends came raiding their houses… aargh
Its plain freaky, ok? The worst thing is, it could happen one day to me too…the way things have been going downhill for us. The image of muslims is getting worse.
Also, I hate the fact that there is an image…its like we’re an object…or a certain bloc that can be categorized as something, as the Terrorists, or the Totally-Covered-Up’s, or the Oppressed-Women-One’s. No one seems to be categorizing any other community. They don’t go “oh! You’re a hindu!” with surprise if you don’t hang ganeshas around your neck, put tilaks and yell out your religion.
And fuck, is it irritating when people are surprised when they realize I’m a muslim, they all go “oh, you don’t look like one!”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’ve heard the comment hundreds of times now and have managed to come up with a few retorts that lets ppl know I’m pissed.
Eg: “Why? Because I don’t have horns growing on my head?” or “What am I supposed to look like?” or “Do the rest of them wear badges or what?”
Ok, that’s plain rude.

#3 Then, it was reading Randa Abdel-Hakim’s novel. It makes me admire the heroines bravery and be ashamed of my own lack of religious practice. I mean, Amal is supposed to be a girl in Australia, who prays, knows all her verses, and even wears the hijab. What kind of moron am I?
Being the brat I am, I condemned wearing the salwar-kameez, used studying as an excuse to not pray and escape from reading the Koran.
I was so,so wrong. So stupid.
No, it doesn’t mean I’ll become a fanatic. I just want to belong a bit more to my community, learn a bit more about my religion. I want to have a bit more right to defend my community against crappy stupid people who think we all are terrorists. Just a little right.
I just want to do it…for me.
What if the Final Judgment will happen? What will I do then?
I might sound like a stupid person to atheists, but…I don’t see anything wrong in learning. I want the English version of the Koran, to understand what it means, to learn Arabic again. I mean, I’d read parts of the Koran earlier, prayed, fasted…but I did that because I was told to, I did it half-heartedly.
This time… I’ll do it because I want to. And I feel happy knowing that.

P.S. Congratulations. You just witnessed a change-of-heart thing. I feel a sense of responsibility now, about being muslim, towards my community, and Allah. I don’t want to be a muslim just because I was born into my family, I want to earn it a bit. I want to be a bit more religious just because some assholes condemn people because they’re muslim, and being the snobbish brat I am, I’ll do whatever they don’t like.

P.P.S. If you hate Muslims may Allah drop a tree on your stupid head.

V-day, come and gone

Another v-day come and gone, and I’m still stuck in this rut.
I don’ have a bf, thinking of turning lesbo
Since I can’t rhyme, I better shut
Up-o.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I CAN rhyme, but not when miserable, and when the world is intent on torturing me with events such as practicals and valentine’s days. Seriously, till last year, I didn’t give a damn, but this year, it really hits you. You wonder if you’re pathetic cause you don’t have a bf or great because you don’t have a bf for a person you don’t even like.
Blah.
Whatever.
I can hardly like a guy for more than…what? 2 days?
Me no say a word. V-day is meant for people in love.
And I don’t believe in love.
Yeah, yeah, don’t go singing the Dido number. I’m serious.
I don’t believe in love. I would put up my long explanation as to what love is supposed to be, but I’m lazy, so I’ll do it some other time. I don’t believe love exists, just… acceptance and obsession.
If you like a person and accept their flaws, inspite of their imperfectness, its acceptance.
If you like a person and don’t see their flaws, its obsession.
I suffer from obsessions every now and then, and patiently wait for them to wear off. They mostly end in a day or two. At that point, the person seems amazing, capable of anything, a glorious god. When it wears off, I usually find myself cringing at the guy I almost worshipped.
I’m blind then. Just like Romeo and Juliet and other crappy story characters are. When ppl meet and “fall in love” at first site, and say, “there was something about his/her face”, its because you fell for their looks, darling. You were obsessed. You can’t see how pathetic the person may be, just act pig-headed and do stupid stuff (like kill yourself, in Juliet’s case).
It wears off. And that’s what causes “love” marriages to break down, often giving the arranged-married-is-best ppl to be gleeful.
Acceptance is far better. You’re not obsessed, but you can live with the person, without any unpleasant surprises, and know them completely.
Yeah, you could call acceptance “love”, but then…you accept some people, but you don’t exactly want to live with them, or just be with them forever.
So, maybe you could call love a combo of acceptance and liking…but then you apparently “love” your parents too, even though you may not completely accept their flaws or like everything about them.
Yikes. I wrote a sermon, even without intending to. I’ll finish up the argument some other day.

Shutuptimenow.

my birthday

7 december
ok. I dunno where to begin.
I'll start from now. Right now, i'm crying, as i predicted around 4 days ago. Then, i felt like crap. I felt lonely and alone and pathetic...And well, like crap. I cried then too, thinking about how i'd be all alone on my 16th bday (ppl couldn't come thanx to the darling phy test- i tell u phy ruins lives...) and feel like shit and sorry for myself and cry.
Wee. I'm crying now. But because i've realised how loved i really am and what an ingrate i am to not realise it and thank god.
Sam and prachi and nripsuta turned up today at eleven-ish with a cake and eatables and the card. I was sitting on the bed, in PAJAMAS and with OILED HAIR and talking on the phone with mansi.
-_-;

Hey, I was going to take a bath when mansi called... :( ,don't blame me
i freaked out. And i was really happy. I ran to my room to change and sat on the bed for 5 minutes to come to terms with what happened. Then, after sam banged on the door, i finally changed and went outside to get a beard of chocolate (i turned into a man on my sixteenth birthday! Unfortunately, not from a boy, but a girl. Fortunately for 10 minutes only.)
we ate. We chatted. They confessed about their conspiracy. How they did it. The planning and the dodging me to get the card signed etc etc
and the card... Its AWESOME. I love it. Sam must have died making it. The amount of effort and detail and work made my heart melt. It also explained Divyanshu disappearing during the eng period when shreya (not ghobi, not dhobi, but section g wali) called him. We teased him all day about it, asking him why he went and talked to a girl whose name he doesn't even kno ("oh ho... FLIRTING!!!"). And seal signed it. He SIGNED NICELY!
The world is weird.
Then sam left *sniff*
then nripsuta's dad came and she had to go.
Prachi stayed till 2. We chatted. We discussed. We looked up phy derivations and even tried a phy experiment (a ring n a bead.Got a bead. Ok. Got a ring. Ok. Wait....Wtf, ring to be 2m long???).
After prachi left, i decided to read sam's letter thing. I'd saved it for last so i could read it aaram se and savor it.
A while later, when i was still reading it, mom walked into the room and just stood there cleaning up the table a bit and looking around. I really started getting irritated cause i was getting senti reading sam's letter and i wanted to be alone for a while. She asked me a few questions and i got more irritated on being interrupted and wished she would leave. I was going back to reading it, when i realised something. This is my mom. She bloody gave birth to me. She's the reason i'm alive and have a stupid birthday. Thus, birthdays should actually be about the kids and mothers. All the importance is given to the kid on the birthday and the mom is sort of forgotten in the celebration. She had been the biggest part of the whole thingy.
Dunno if you get what i mean.
Whatever, i felt like a sore asshole. I looked up to see mom walking out of the room. I ran after her and gave her a big large hug, and mentally slapped myself for ever being irritated with my mom. I then quickly walked into my room to hide my tears.
A few seconds later my mom yelled at me to go have my bath and i couldn't help but smile.

Just made me realise that there are so many things we're not thankful for.
Thanks mom, sam,chi, nripsuta, manvi, vani, shreeda, mansi, nayani, jismi, ankita etc etc.