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Trying. October 8, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Life, Random.
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A couple of hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that till tomorrow, he said, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity. You think more people would listen to what he had to say. I don’t know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I’d have to say it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, sometimes the fear is just of making a decision, because what if you’re wrong? What if you’re making a mistake you can’t undo? The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost. We can’t pretend we hadn’t been told. We’ve all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today’s possibility under tomorrow’s rug until we can’t anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin really meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beat the hell out of never trying.

- Meredith Grey, Grey’s Anatomy

Quarter life crisis October 3, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Family, Life, Loves, Music.
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Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I’ll be right beside you dear

Grey’s Anatomy has got me listening to a bunch of songs I used to listen to a hundred times a day. Run by Snow Patrol is one of them. It’s probably one of the most amazing songs ever.

When did life get here? I’m nineteen. My get-to-be-emo days are almost over. My little cousins are not so little anymore. One told me the other day that she likes Taylor Lautner without his shirt on, and another other one has just developed her first crush on a classmate.

Sigh.

I may not be as dark and twisty as before, love age can do that to you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. The dark and twisty period, it can be defining. Holed up in your room, with heartbreak songs in the background as you begin to pack away another unfinished chapter of love. Chocolate wrappers spread on the floor, and a romance novel lying spine up on the bed.

And then one day, you wake up, and you realize you’re halfway through college.

Bits September 19, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Books, In the news, Random.
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Just finished reading One Night With A Prince by Sabrina Jeffries.  Yes, a trashy romance novel. Yes, the kind I love. Yes, the one I stayed up till 4 am to read.

Changed the look of the blog again, I felt the other was a bit too dark. Speaking of dark, I discovered that there’s Season 5 of Grey’s Anatomy on Zee Cafe (2 Episodes back-to-back). Couple this with Season 4 playing on Star World.. I am going to get a sizeable dose of dark and twisty Meredith and oh-so-dreamy Derek every week hopefully!

Gossip Girl Season 3. Oh Chuck. But why does Dan look so slimy!?

I am quite amused with this whole business of the Congress offering ‘opinions’ on Shashi Tharoor’s  tweeting business, but a bit disturbed. Isn’t that usually the role played by another major political party in the country?

Eh? September 14, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Education, Random.
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The end of another semester is nearing, so that means getting back assignments and test papers. As I look through my answers, I realize that I can’t recall ever having put those particular words there.

I’m a stranger to my own work!

(I could have put this on Twitter, but I feel I am neglecting my poor blog)

PS : It’s raining, gorgeous weather I’d say, if only I didn’t have to go out and catch two buses to college now.

Apologies to Harvard September 10, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Loves, Poetry.
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Poetry spammage soon. Watch out. Not mine though.

Excerpt from John Updike’s 1973 Phi Beta Kappa poem:

APOLOGIES TO HARVARD

We took the world as given. Cigarettes
Were twenty-several cents a pack, and gas
as much per gallon. Sex came wrapped in rubber
And veiled in supernatural scruples—call
Them chivalry. A certain breathlessness
Was felt; perhaps the Bomb, which after all
Mushroomed us as we entered puberty,
Waking us from the newspaper-nightmare
Our childhoods had napped through, was realer then;
Our lives, at least, were not assumed to be
Our right; we lived, by shifts, on sufferance.
The world contained policemen, true; and these
Should be avoided; governments were bunk,
But well-intentioned; blacks were beautiful
But seldom seen; the poor were with ye always.
We thought one war as moral as the next,
Believed that life was tragic and absurd,
And were absurdly cheerful on that basis.
We loved John Donne and Hopkins, Yeats and Pound,
Medieval history was rather swank,
Psychology was in the mind; abstract
Things grabbed us where we lived; the only life
Worth living was the private life, and—last,
Worst scandal in this characterization—
We did not know we were a generation.


I stumbled upon a couple of lines from the above excerpt in the book “The Class” by Erich Segal.

The last line is just.. inspiring.

Forcing Words September 2, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Writing.
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“Observe the wonders as they occur around you. Don’t claim them. Feel the artistry moving through and be silent.”

- Rumi

As a writer, and a student, I know there is no point in life that I can reach and say “This is it. This is how writing should be”. For me, writing changes everyday.  I can never pin point a particular form and absolutely believe that this is my form. However, one thing that has remained a constant necessity is that writing shouldn’t sound, well, forced.

I literally squirm when I have to listen people create images with words that are just not plausible, that the words are literally being forced to play a strange and awkward role, that need to be released from their misery. Words, they are like pieces of a puzzle, you can’t jam them into a space that’s not right and expect them to sit nice and pretty just because you feel smarter creating a pseudo psychotic image.

Writing is living, breathing, alive. A word is like a person, that has to have the right to choose its place in a piece. Maybe the mark of a true writer lies in not just knowing how to write, but how to let the words write themselves.

My words of wisdom I choose to dispense with a horrible mug-pot test looming before me. What excellent timing.

Writing August 16, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Life, People, Random.
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I can write. I know I can. Sometimes its the easiest thing in the world, and sometimes the blank white screen is most intimidating. But when the words come, I know they are the right ones.

I trust the words that flow out, simply because there’s a reason why one was formed and another drifted off to be used later. I rarely edit what I write (not a good thing all the time) because then it isn’t me anymore, it isn’t me sitting in the same space as those words. We need to be on the same page literally, the words need to have the same importance as me creating them. Otherwise I kill their tiny little squiggly lives, like mosquitoes being squished.

I write for me, and I watch her write for adulation. Who gets it, then? He, who is forming all those ideas in her head? What is the difference between them. I can’t see it. Hypocrite I want to shout, but she wont hear me. Won’t listen. It’s only the sound of one voice that will spur her on.

So, my words and I, we will sit and wait.

And no, I do not have MPD.

Reading List and Eliot August 8, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Books, Education, Essays, Poetry.
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So much to read!  Mythologies, The Second Sex and now I stumbled across Laura Mulvey’s essay“Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema”

Also, totally tripping on T.S Eliot.

“For I have known them all already, known them all -
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?”

- The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

Zip. July 29, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Bitching, Life, Random.
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It’s amazing how judgemental I’ve become lately. That may sound a little smug, but really, it is the truth. Sometimes it feels like I’m pushing againt a stone wall, thats set in it’s ways. A wall I have to scale eventually, and I want to be close to doing that.

College is college. I may have become bitchier, but restraint is a quality I’ve learnt to appreciate a heck of a lot. Glaring holes in the tapestry, the thread is wearing away and maybe I feel like tugging at a loose end just to watch the whole thing unravel, but that will happen on its own if I wait long enough. We all love watching people get put in their places, but I know it will be my turn soon. There are so many chances to slip up, to let go of something thats been in my reach all this while, and now suddenly that need to retain that sense of being me in this class of immensely talented individuals is overwhelming, even if its only in my head.

Often, judgement feels like the only thing thats mine anymore. That the words in my head are in their safest place, where nobody can get at them but me. I guess that’s why there hasn’t been much blogging lately.

Self, always remember at the end of the day, I am still that girl who prefers to sit in the far left corner of the room, but censorship will get me nowhere.

And I will try to fix you. July 25, 2009

Posted by Geetanjali in Life, Music, Random.
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When you try your best but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

- Fix You (Coldplay)

This song always puts things in perespective for me. Always. It has this power of sitting me down, face-to-face and saying look, shit happens. Chris Martin may have written this song for Gwenyth Paltrow after her father died, but everytime I listen to this song, it hits a raw nerve somewhere.

“Stuck in reverse” is a phenomenon I am slowly getting used to. It’s something I love at times, and I detest it at other moments. When I crave a whirlwind, a gentle steady breeze is a bit of a let down but as I get older, I realise I’d rather have the breeze. In all the blur of activity, listening to this song is a translucency process.

I become easier to read for myself.

So if there’s anyone fixing me right now, Chris Martin, it’s me.