The Pink Fluffy Bunny Club

Me v. State of Asthma

Dear Asthma,

You suck.

You've made my life difficult this past week. If I didn't have you, I wouldn't have had to sit down just because I physically exerted myself in changing a couple of bedsheets. Also, thanks to you, I'm not supposed to have ice-cream.

Do you know what that means? DO you know what that MEANS??

It means I'm angry enough to use Caps Lock. In my comp-lang book, that's a great amount of anger, boy.

Go away!!

xoxo (You wish!)

Me

P.S.: There were a whole lot of things that I wanted to write in this letter, but my breath's shortening. Thanks to you, I can't even complete my post. You suck till the ends of this world!

Because I'm Jobless Enough to Write Two Posts in a Day

Dear Guys of Delhi,

I know I'm generalizing when I say that. I don't like generalizations plus I do know some decent guys from Delhi to whom this post isn't applicable. So, if it doesn't fit you, consider yourself excluded.

Let me put it up frankly - I do not understand your obsessive compulsive need to constantly keep hitting on girls or why in the blue hell you think singing a shady hindi song is going to help you. Shady hindi songs don't work. Ever. Let me just put it this way, if every girl to whom you sang a shady hindi song carried a taser around, you'd be screwed big time.

And not in the way you'd like.

Slowing down cars, especially cars with dark windows is scary. You probably know that. Don't do it. Also, if you're in a group of two or more guys and you harass a girl, you're not being macho. You're being an a$$hole.

I know everything I've said doesn't matter to you. Probably. Otherwise you would've stopped doing all the aforementioned things and a lot more a really long time ago.

Gah!

Heaps of curses,

Me

A Trippy Affaire

It happened again.

The same bloody thing happened all over again.

We have our mid-sems coming up and, like we do usually, we started planning a trip to a hill station. Now, we've had experience with doing that before, at least 6-7 times. The only time we've gone for a trip that's lasted over a day is when I went to Udaipur with MFG and his friends. As for our college friends, we've tried planning for quite a few places quite a few number of times, yet these plans have never materialised. The reason: Inadequacy of number of people.

It always starts with everyone saying yes. A resounding yes! Yeah, yeah, plan it out, tell us - we'll definitely come. The moment the plan starts taking shape, the excuses start flowing in. It starts as a trickle and then slowly becomes a raging river, till just 2-3 of us are left, high and dry. Any guesses on who all are left standing and shaking their head? Hint: Look at the line in which I mention Udaipur.

I don't like it.

Yesterday K said that maybe we should just accept that we would never go for a trip with our college friends. I don't want to. It would be so much fun to go for a proper trip with friends. I wonder why nobody else realises that. MFG was right. I shouldn't really get excited about such trips. They've never gone beyond the planning stage. But, what if someday it does?

I'm going to wait for that day.

Zapped!

My body feels like a sack of lead. I'm dragging it around by the sheer force of my will. I know what I need.

A hug. And a bed.

I'm shuffling my feet while I'm walking over to the elevator on my grandmom's hospital room's floor. My mom's voice persists in my ear, telling me I should have slept on the couch. I should have. I kept yawning throughout, but I had to stay awake. The doctor hadn't come on his morning rounds and I had to talk to him about my grandmom's discharge.

Did I mention that she's going to be discharged soon? After more than a month! I'm so happy :)

I doubt I could have slept otherwise. Something tells me I would have just kept staring at the ceiling and freaked out the nurse. On the other hand, I think I should have tried that :D

I don't really know why I'm so tired. I look up at the stairs of the metro station and I can feel my heart beating. I grab the railing and propel myself forward. I manage to make it to the train.

"Is yaatra seva mein thoda vilambh aaya hai.."

!!!

I want to faint, but I stand upright. Finally I reach back and I want to kiss the ground. Too early, I discover. I still have to get a recharge for my mom's phone. I manage to drag myself down the stairs without rolling off and grab the nearest rickshaw. On the way I start craving jalebis.

Hot, crispy, juicy jalebis.

Jalebis so delicious that you'd take your shoes off and walk barefoot for 30 kms for a chance to let them melt in your mouth.

I reach the market and get the guy to drop me off near the recharge place. That is more important. There happens to be a hassled customer at the store, because of which the whole thing takes me 10 minutes. I finally get the recharge and run to the jalebi store!

Okay, more like creak over.

The guy hasn't started making the jalebis yet. My heart's broken. The guy takes pity on me and tells me that the boy will start making them in 15 minutes. I know I can barely stand. I thank him and walk away.

I somehow manage to drag the sack of lead to my place. I'm still craving for jalebis.

Piping hot jalebis.

I can't get myself to sleep, so I switch on the net and look at the photos we had taken on our trip to Agra. It's fun. The photos are good and MFG and K are online. I'm happy my friends are there.

The clock strikes 5:35 p.m. I decide to skip my dance class. I may be happy, but I'm still zapped. Zapped beyond words. And I know that I can't dance like this.

I can't dance like this.

All because I'm so zapped.

So, so, so, so, so zapped.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I had a haircut yesterday. Now, I love getting my hair cut. It's a weird thing, but it makes me happy. It doesn't matter that a lot of things make me happy. But yesterday's haircut was a big decision for it would mean that I would be getting rid of the best hairstyle I've ever had in my entire life. Still, I went ahead with it. Now, my usual salon is good - I've been getting my hair cut from there since I shifted to my current place. But I don't think I had anticipated someone to be less of a hairdresser and more of a salesperson to be cutting my hair.

Now, I've never had my hair cut without getting scolded by the hairdresser - whether it's for the fact that I had stopped conditioning my hair for a few months or that I wouldn't touch hair oil with a barge pole. But this particular female just kept on going about how horribly damaged my hair was. In fat it was so badly damaged that only one shampoo would work on it. Absolutely *no other* shampoo would work on it. Every other shampoo was floor cleaner. I *had* to buy that shampoo, I absolutely did.

She messed with the wrong person.

Now, I'm not one who gives in to pushiness. It didn't take me long to understand that what she was giving me was a sales pitch. My hair has been in much worse condition before (and when I say much worse, I mean it), but I've always gotten recommendations, never a sales pitch. I asked her thrice whether she could recommend me any other producy since the one she was telling me to buy is only available with professional salons, but as I said earlier, absolutely *no other* shampoo would work on it. The big kahuna moment came when my mom asked her how much would the product cost. And what I should do just in case it's not available. Her pushiness doubled at that moment. She was intent on making me sign up for a lifetime membership of that shampoo.

As I said, she messed with the wrong person. Had she just recommended me that product, I would've been open to trying it out. But the fact that

1) She gave me a hairstyle that makes me look like a plucked chicken.

2) After telling me how horribly damaged my hair was, it was blow-dried at high heat. If my hair really was so badly damaged, then why the f*** was the hair dryer set to high?? Aren't you going to ruin my hair even more by that?!

3) The overall pushiness made for the second worst experience I've ever had, with the worst being the time I'd grown my hair and gone ahead just for a trim and came back with my hair seven inches shorter. Seven!

I don't think I'm going to go back there again. Or if I do, I'm going to get my hair cut from the guy who's cut my hair earlier and not from that female at all.

My hair!! :( :( :(