Clichés of Conceit

One can not get any more conceited if every line of a post starts with “I”. I would have loved to deprecate my worth one more time and then feel all smug about it. But I guess we need to be selfish some most of the times. Or else we won’t be ourselves. So let us celebrate vanity for once and be content with it. Everything else should take the proverbial back seat.

Oh by the way, this tag came from El. I wonder who that might be.

I am a conceited pompous ass. I am always thinking about myself.
I think continuously. It’s almost on the lines of an ailment. I am thinking of seeing a shrink about this.
I know this post is already getting tedious. But don’t blame me. Needed to do it.
I want nothing more than a bed and looooong dream sequence. Did I tell you I never dream? Well now you know.
I have a lot of smelly clothes in my room that I need to wash asap. The stench is getting overbearing man.
I wish someone would come and wash them for me. I am as lazy as He makes them.
I hate arrogance. Even when it comes from me.
I miss mangoes. As of now.
I smell like a sweating pig. Seriously. Ha ha.
I crave something I can not divulge.
I search for contentment. This is the first of the clichés.
I wonder why you still haven’t given up reading this.
I love the way she smiles. Who? Well, I am not telling.
I care about my family. But they don’t know that.
I ache for Samtse, Bhutan.
I am not as depressing as I might seem.
I believe God made women because he found man was imperfection personified.
I dance like a madcap. You step on my tail and watch me fly off the hook.
I sing in the bathroom. Sometimes when I shit. Most of the times when I am alone.
I cry rarely. Though it’s an activity one should indulge in more often.
I don’t always like these tag thingies. They are boring half the time.
I write loads of stuff. Some good. Most mundane. Rest hogwash.
I win when I am the only one playing.
I lose when there is someone else too.
I always end up confused.
I listen to what gets my gun.
I can usually be found in my room, fussing over the most trivial things. God. This was the mother of all clichés.
I am happy about this tag ending.
I imagine her. All the time.

I tag Chandni and Abhinav. Listen both of you. Feel free to ignore this tag. I know tags are a pain.

Devil's Advocate

Here I am, completing an incredibly stupid tag from an incredibly stupid person (who never got around to completing mine). And that too when I have exams. Now do you realize my magnanimity? Loser. It's another matter altogether we always wind up having free time.

Last Movie Seen in Theatre “Taare Zameen Par”. I had the good fortune of watching it with Mom and Dad. Both of them shed tears in copious quantities. I was a bit busy observing the reactions of the aunty sitting to my right. But definitely one of the better movies Bollywood has churned out. And it shall remain so for a long time to come. Oh did I forget to mention something? Amir Khan rocked, as always. If you don’t believe me, watch him in action in “Sarfarosh”.

Book Being Read Security Protocols. It’s not a book actually. Just a 50-something-page notebook filled with my handsome scrawl.

Favorite Board Game Err. Does Ludo count? Playing “these” games is definitely one of the childhood things I kind of missed out on. Though I do remember Dad teaching me how to play chess (when we were in Bhutan). But a budding talent was nipped in the bud when Didi decided to upturn the board every time she lost to me. Damn. Also, I remember buying a very expensive and overtly intellectual board game called Scotland Yard on one of my birthdays. Pity it turned out to be a little too abstract for me too. It now rusts atop one of the cupboards at home.

Favorite Magazine I used to pine for Playboy in my adolescent years (have they passed already?). Used to go to the magazine stand almost every week, wondering whether the vendor had been able to get a copy of the coveted journal. Only to be disappointed of course. When the realization dawned, I began to make do with the magazine’s less illustrious contemporaries.

Crap apart, favorite regular reads have to be National Geographic and Wisdom . Interest in both grew because Dad used to get them especially for me from his office (other members in the family were just too disinterested in intellectual preoccupations or environmental concerns of the world). Nat Geo was perused only because of the wow images their correspondents took. Wisdom was devoured because of my fascination with trivia.

While Nat Geo is still a staple, Wisden has long been lost in oblivion, both by the world (I wonder if it's still published) and by me. As a matter of fact, I thought about it only while completing the tag.

Favorite Smells Saundhi Mitti. Nothing beats it for me. Smell of my Mom in the clothes stored in the cupboard at home (I have never actually confessed this to her).

Favorite Sounds Burning of the guitar. Silence of the afternoons I spent in my terrace room at home. Coldplay. Gulzar. Couples kissing. Ok that was the most longed for sound.

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up? “Fuck. I think I slept too long. Again. Shit.”

Worst feeling in the world Lots actually. And I am not mentioning any of them. Ok. I’ll just write one. Having money when someone is begging for it at the traffic signal. And yet not parting with any of it.

Favorite Fast Food Place It’s been only four years since I had my first McDonald’s burger. What more could you expect? Not a big fan of fast food anyway. Ok. Maybe fast food that you bring home and gorge on while watching the afternoon sleazy movie on HBO.

Future Child’s Name Siddhartha Junior. Can’t help it. I am too much in love with my name. Aren’t you enamoured by it too?

Finish this statement, “If I had a lot of money I’d…” Try to spend it all before the incredulity of it gets to me.

Do you drive fast? Suraksha se der bhali. Have never known myself exceeding 60kmph, even on the loneliest of roads. I think I am a bit scared of speeds. Or maybe the bike shakes a bit too much after those speeds. Either way, I am not a speed demon.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? I sleep with my velvety blanket, tucked firmly under me (instead of spread over me). I have to make do with it because life sized dolls (you get what I am getting at?) are conspicuous by their absence in INDIA.

Storms - Cool or Scary? Depends. Cool if there is some girl who is scared shitless by the same. Otherwise just okay hi payega na?

Do you eat the stems on broccoli? What the heck is broccoli? Baah. I eat aloo-gobhi. And I love it.

If you could dye your hair any colour, what would be your choice? Blonde. Ha ha. I am not kidding of course. Ass.

All towns/cities you have lived in Let’s start from the beginning. Delhi (Was born there), Dimapur (Nagaland), Jaipur, Samtse (A village on the India-Bhutan border. The best place I have been to. And probably I’ll ever be to), Lucknow, Ghaziabad, Gandhinagar, Mysore, Noida, Gandhinagar, Period.

Favorite sports to watch Beach Volleyball. Of course.

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you Err. I think the hard drive just crashed. Our tech support will get back to you soon.

What’s under your bed? Not much. A strolley with no wheels. On top of that is a suitcase. A pair of shoes I haven’t used in 4 months. Oh, I just looked. Approximately 6 empty (of course) packets of Rasna JuiceUP.

Would you like to be born as yourself again? Yes. Albeit with more brains.

Morning person or night owl? Seriously. I want to know. Are you kidding me?

Over easy or sunny side up? Sorry. ArrayOutOfBoundsException. Total over head transmission.

Favorite Place to Relax Under a mango tree. If you want the exact place, look for the one in the primary school in a village named Kandikhal. Also, Lucknow home’s parent’s bedroom (with mum sleeping beside me so that she can wake me up whenever I ask her to) is a close second.

Favorite Pie What angrezi shit? Hindi mein batao pie ka matlab. Humph.

Favorite Ice Cream Just ice cream has to be orange bar. I once vomited 13 times in a single night because I ate an equal number of cheap orange bars during the day. Favorite flavor has to be butter scotch.

And now comes the best part. In order to continue the vicious circle, I tag Piper, Pinky, and Shaktimaan (if she ever reads this).

You Got Tagged

What's tagging?
When I tag a fellow blogger and ask him to write on a particular subject, he or she is blogg-ily obliged to do so. Of course, we don't always end up having these loony requests being met by one and all. That being said and done, tagging seems like a fun thing. I have never been tagged before and so I think it is only apt that I should be the one to start the vicious circle ;-) Have Fun.

We have often ended up vowing to do certain somethings but never actually effecting them. Last night was one such night for me. Time and again, we are reminded of our inability to enjoy life the simple way. But things are never how they should be. I guess it's just the beauty of realizing the truth itself. I hope this helps you do the same.

This is the subject of this tag. I will just mention my take on the issue. The ones being tagged can take the cue and carry on from here :)

I tag Fact Man, Piper, Banter and Shaktimaan. Sorry guys! You are probably the only ones reading this.

Cry and Shout Why don't we let it out sometime? Just for a change perhaps. I believe it will be a tremendous relief the day I will cry my heart out, shout away all my anger or just yell the hell out of myself. Someone somewhat correctly said, "Tears don't show how weak we are. They just show how much we can bear." I have been a pressure cooker for too long. Quietly and (often) very humbly trying to ignore everything distasteful. Let's do some yelling tonight (Y)

Express Why don't we express how we feel for a person? Not just someone we like or love. But maybe someone we idolize, adore or hate? Why is it too hard to say how much our family means to us? A phone call perhaps. Maybe just a letter. I imagine it must be hard. I can't muster enough courage myself.

Break Away Unshackle those chains of ordinariness bounding you. It's not always a crime to be someone or something different. Why follow the sheep when you can be the shepherd? Do something different today. Wake all night. Start a revolution. Be the change you want to see in others.

Be Oneself Is it too hard being what we are? Actually it is. One only assumes that one is being oneself. But one is continuously being molded by the opinion of the junta on the sidelines. Change is not bad. But it is not that welcome either if it comes at the cost of identity. So why not be crass if you can not help it? Why be cool if you don't want to be? Why be sophomore when sid is what you are?

Feel Love Hate eats you inside out. So just go for love instead. Feel the emotion which has intrigued human psyche for centuries. Why not be polite and modest for a change? Why not forgive those who err? Ignore their mistakes, realizing we could have been the ones committing them? Why not opt for letting go (for once) and waiting for it to come back to you? A certain Shaktimaan once said to me, "I am not big enough to love without wanting to be loved back, I'm afraid...But I know people who are. And boy, do I respect them. Because that's what love is all about. Loving and setting free. Not about loving and getting."

I fully realize this is as crappy as a post can get. But I had to somehow let it out. Following my own advice for once.

Piper has been generous enough to complete the tag. You can find his take here.