New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve has to be the most overrated day of the year. You're actually under pressure to have fun. Where's the fun in that? You dress up, pay to go to some party where the music is so loud that you can't hear your own voice much less anyone else's, dance in your heels till your feet are sore, scream "Happy New Year" at midnight and then what? Its like this huge drumroll seeming like it's leading up to something awesome and then falls flat. What do you do next? It's back to the real world. Back to our ruts, our unglamorous lives. It's almost like the withdrawal symptoms when recovering from an addiction. Why should there be so much pressure to have fun? It's like a system of one-upmanship. Who had the most fun last night? Who danced the night away? Who was at the most happening place? New Year's Eve is basically planned spontaneity-how ridiculous does that sound? But like other traditions, I guess this is one too. Despite how annoying some of them can be, we indulge in them because it's what we do. We cant really do without them. We could ease up on the pressure though. Not all of us are party animals (myself included). Ironically, I have a party to go to tonight. Ah well, farewell 2016! It wasn't particularly nice knowing you and 2017, please be good!

The Thing About Unrequited Love

I read a lot of the classics as a child. One of my favourites was Little Women. I was heartbroken when Jo didn't reciprocate Laurie's affections. Back then, I believed that if you loved someone, they were obligated to love you back. It was almost like a contract. Come to think of it, my thoughts closely mirrored Shahrukh Khan's character in Darr. But, it was the done thing, wasn't it? That the girl eventually fell for the guy or vice versa? It was a foolproof formula, guaranteed to be a hit with its audience. It wasn't until much later that I realised that you don't love someone on the condition that they love you back. You love them because you chose to. They didn't ask you to do anything of the sort. You can't resent them for not feeling the same way. Its easier said than done though. And, as someone who has never experienced romantic reciprocity (I'm told I'm a little frightening when I like someone-and you've all read about my legendary flirting technique), its really hard to deal with the rejection. So, what do you do? How do you deal with it? You could be melodramatic like me and say, "I'm not meant for love" or you could be philosophical and say, "When it's meant to be, it will be". I'm like a pendulum, swinging from one extreme to the other. But one thing no one should ever do is be like Ranbir Kapoor's character in Ae Dil Hai Mushkil-he just can't take no for an answer. Even K-k-k-kiran was less annoying and creepy than he was. He gives a bad name to lovers everywhere. He wants her because he can't have her. He's that one guy trying so desperately to get out of the friendzone, but keeps getting sucked back in. You should know when to cut your losses and leave. Because I believe that we were rejected for the sole reason that we were meant for someone else. And the sooner we understand that, the sooner we find our happy ending. And well, heartbreak is one of the biggest inspirations (after reciprocal love :P). At least something good came out of it, right?
(P.S. I've been asked why I write about love so much. I do think about it more than anyone with any common sense should. I think it's all the love stories I've read. They've filled my head with unrealistic notions. My writings are my way of coming to terms with it)

Why Every Girl Should Have a Girlfriend

Every girl should have a girlfriend. At least one. Because while boys are great fun to be with, they don't quite compare to a girlfriend. It's only with your girlfriends that you can sit looking like a homeless person and still behave like you're Miss Universe. A girlfriend will always tell you how nice you look when you're at a party because she knows the effort that has gone into your outfit and well, everyone likes a compliment, don't they? Also, who better to sit and gossip with? Having a girlfriend is almost as necessary as breathing. With your girlfriends, you can sing off-key, dance like absolute fools, exchange beauty tips and drool on celebrities and the cute boys in your class. Girlfriends are also there during all the issues. The heartbreak, the fights, the loss of a sense of purpose. They understand. They empathize. They also hold a way bigger grudge than you possibly could for the ones who hurt you. What makes a girlfriend special is the fact that she doesn't have to be like you, doesn't even have to have the same interests as you and yet, she manages to understand you on a level that no one else possibly can. Sure, there is the passive aggressive fighting which can implode once in a while, but true girlfriends will always be there for each other in anyway possible-to comfort, to bitch, to gossip, to lift each other's spirits, to be brutally honest even when it hurts, to stick up for each other and also to stop each other from becoming high maintenance divas. Girlfriends are your friends till the very end. And also, us girls have got to stick together!

Notebooks

I have a notebook. A beautiful notebook. Filled with pages made of handmade paper and covered with handlooms from Jaipur. When I see a beautiful notebook, I feel compelled to buy it. I have no idea what I'm ever going to use it for..not for college notes definitely, it's much too gorgeous and precious for that. Beautiful notebooks make me think of poetry. Of Keats, Dickinson, Neruda and Rumi. Beautiful notebooks-leather bound and filled with not just yellowing pages but also a promise of a story. The slightly musty but nevertheless irresistible smell of the pages are like sirens. Calling you to them, asking you, begging you to write in them; to confide your deepest, darkest secrets. Notebooks, to most people, are just inanimate objects- you write in them and throw them away when you don't need them anymore. For me, they're stories waiting to be written. Maybe not heard, but written.

Notebooks give you a chance to be unapologetically yourself, no judgements. You can be mean, sappy, lovesick or euphoric, a notebook is always willing to listen. While novels and storybooks are good friends in their own right, they are always telling you their own story. A notebook lets you tell your own.

Flirting 101

Today, I exclaimed to my mom about how I cannot flirt to save my life. Literally, even if there was a gun to my head, I would not be able to flirt with anyone. I just cannot imagine batting my eyelashes and twirling a lock of my hair. I'm one of those people who goes red in the face and starts talking absolute bullsh*t when I like someone. I cannot flirt. It is physically impossible. Like a lot of conversations with my mom which start out innocently enough, this one turned into a monologue about how I can improve myself. My mom says that the reason for my ineptness at flirting is because I'm never myself around the opposite sex. She says and I quote, I'm in a constant state of hyperactivity around boys which turns them off. I don't ever relax and show them the "real me". I can't even fathom how lame I am that I'm actually taking flirting tips from mother dearest. Anyway, she continued by saying that I let out this force of negative energy around most people, which also isn't very attractive. Because who really wants more negativity in their lives? I must clarify, I'm not a bundle of negativity all the time. In college, I'm a ray of sunshine (which my mom says, is the reason I have so many friends). With most people, I close myself off, putting up an invisible wall because I'm afraid they won't like me for me. I start to pretend to be someone else and it all becomes a vicious circle. I'm afraid they will mock me for being a nerd and a dork and I cease to be comfortable in my own skin. My mom says that there's only one rule in flirting- be authentic. Any fool can spot a phoney from a mile away. So let's see, I'll give my flirting skills a shot the next time I spot a cute guy. And who knows, maybe he will be unable to resist my goofy charms!

Faith

Sometimes I wonder what is more important-faith or love? By faith, I dont mean faith in God. I mean faith in a person. It's easy to love someone but have no faith in them. But if you don't love someone, you can never have faith in them. Faith, to me, is an irrevocable belief that you can do it. No matter what anyone says. I have faith in a lot of things. I have faith in my mother, in my sister. I have faith that somewhere out there, my soul mate is waiting for me. I have faith that I will find my way. I have faith that everyone has good in them. I have faith in the idea of faith. Having someone have faith in you is frightening and exhilarating. You don't want to let them down, but it somehow propels you to work harder. When someone doesn't have faith in you, or you don't have faith in yourself, what's going to push you to succeed? I think faith is even more important than love. Because you rarely choose whom you love. But you can choose to have faith in that person. Faith is something that you have to earn. You can love your dog with all your heart, but you needn't have faith that it's not going to eat up the trash when you're not looking.
I'm still working on having faith in myself. Its not as easy as it looks. It's only when I believe that I can do it that others can take a leap of faith when it comes to me.

Trying before buying

I don't understand the concept of an arranged marriage. I mean, you meet the guy once or twice and decide that you want to spend the rest of your life with him? Look at it this way, when you go shopping for a dress, you don't just buy the first thing you see, right? You check how it fits, whether it is comfortable, whether you have accessories that go with it, how many occasions you can wear it for. You parade around in it to see if you make a statement, whether the outfit is 'YOU'. So much fuss for a dress and just one encounter is enough to make one of the most important decisions of your life? You have to try before you buy, right? You could argue that the parents have probably checked out his background, but they can't really check out his personality can they? Just because you seem compatible on paper doesn't mean that you're compatible in real life. I mean, the parents can introduce the guy to you, and you can date him for a while. Get comfortable with each other and decide whether you are right for each other. Honestly, this is a person you expect to spend the rest of your life with, it's not a spontaneous, spur of the moment decision you just jump into. It may sound insanely romantic, but it's just insane.

The Dying Breed of Gentlemen

Gentlemen are a dying breed. I know I'm a feminist, but that does not mean I want men to stop being gentlemen. My grandfather is a gentleman. He waits at the door until we are backed out of the driveway, he stands up when someone walks into the room, he holds the door open. And it's not that he does it just with the ladies, he does it with everyone. Because that's what a gentleman is. He, who treats everyone with respect and honour. Not because it's the right thing to do, but because he believes that everyone deserves it. He, who calls the waiter by his name and not by clicking his fingers. He, who listens to whatever the other person says with complete concentration, without looking bored, because he is genuinely interested.

Being a gentleman is not an art. A gentleman is just a man who's gentle and kind and caring and considerate. And when did we lose sight of this?

As for me, the man I fall in love with will have some very large shoes to fill. I have had the exceptional example of my grandfather, haven't I?

A Childhood Memory

When I was a child, I would get furious with my mother when she refused to make charts and posters for my class. Every few weeks, a student was selected to make chart based on the lesson that was taught in class and this was put go on the wall. I would dread the arrival of my turn, because I knew that either I would have to make the chart myself, or I would just have to say that my mother did not have the time (or the inclination) to do it. I generally ended up making the charts myself.

 I'm no Picasso, so obviously, they didn't turn out very good. As a result of which they were not put up! All my hard work for nothing! I would look longingly at the other beautiful charts in class and feel disappointment, anger, and a twinge of envy. Disappointment that my chart was not up with the others, anger at my mother and envy of my classmates who had much more obliging mothers. 

It wasn't until much later that I thought, "Why the hell should the teachers expect mothers to make the charts for their kids? Make the kids do it themselves! So what if it isn't neat and tidy and they have coloured outside the lines? At least they're learning something new!" And instead of encouraging a little kid who, might I say, did her very best to make the chart as pretty as possible, which wasn't an easy task (I'm creative with my words, not my hands), you just shove her chart into the cupboard to be eaten by termites? It broke my heart. I was like a little puppy hankering for petting and being told, "Good boy, you!"

 

I don't think the experience left me with permanent scars. Sure, I'm still apprehensive when it comes to art work. Sure, it made me want to scream at my mom about why she couldn't be more like other mothers who made as many pop-up charts as their kids required. Sure, it made me resent my teachers for asking so much of me. But it's definitely not one of those things that I'm likely to cry about in front of my therapist (imaginary, of course). Pretty much like a puppy, my broken heart was temporary, fixed and forgotten in a nanosecond. That's the nice thing about being a kid, you let things go. And hey, it made me more independent, more resilient. I learnt how to do my assignments on my own (thankfully, most of them were written). I have never really managed to make a beautiful chart all on my own though. Oh well, nobody's perfect! 

One Year Later

When I finished writing my previous post, I realized that I had not posted anything in lieu of International Women's Day. That's practically blasphemy in my book. Last year I had written this post just after I had watched the BBC documentary 'India's Daughter' and my blood was boiling. Even the memory makes me grind my teeth. But I don't want this post to be about that. I do not want this post to be about the atrocities and injustice the fairer sex is faced with. I want this post to be as positive as possible. 

As cliched as it might sound, I think most of us girls these day are pretty badass. Sure, most of us have not faced real adversity. But we have experienced people judging us just because we are women, however subtle it might be. Be it not being allowed to enter the prayer room or touching the pickle when menstruating or asking to go to a late night concert unescorted (I know that we live in unsafe times. But shouldn't measures be taken to remove the people who make these times uncertain and unsafe? Why should we be punished for not doing anything?), or even going out alone with a boy (WHAT WILL PEOPLE SAY??). Translating a famous Bollywood song- People will talk. They have no other work. The only way to stop people from talking, is to stop judging others ourselves. We are the main culprits, the perpetrators. A girl walks in wearing a tight dress; it is on the tips of our tongues to say that she looks so vulgar and cheap. How is that kind of violent language acceptable? And yet, we cringe when someone says the same thing about us? Women can be their own worst enemies. And there is nothing more despicable than a woman who doesn't stand up for her own gender. However, despite all the judgement and criticism (from both genders), we have managed to do pretty well for ourselves, I think. We have a long way to go here in India. But there has been progress. We no longer shrink into a corner when intimidated. We no longer behave like doormats. More and more women are becoming financially independent. We now have the courage to use our voice. We are still afraid, but we know we are not alone. We are slowly realizing how powerful we truly are and we are fighting for what we want.It's an uphill battle, but we'll get there someday.

The Redundancy of the Arts

My teacher asked us what the most famous first line in literature was. All of us were stumped. She said it was "Call me Ishmael" from 'Moby Dick' and the second most famous line was from 'Pride and Prejudice'-“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” I was intrigued. I asked her why were these lines chosen, out of the vast selection of literature. Now it was her turn to be stumped. She did not know how to respond. I thought to myself, "No matter, I shall check it out on the trusty internet". But to my surprise, even that could not give me an answer. I decided to read 'Moby Dick'. And even then I could not fathom why it was one of the most famous lines. Even 'Pride and Prejudice', a book I've read a countless number of times. Why those lines? What did it signify? What made it so special? And the fact that a Literature professor could not answer that just goes to show how the arts are slowly dying.I'm saying this as a student of the Arts. How can we expect to survive if we don't change with the times? We cannot be studying the same works over and over again. There is no doubt that Faulkner, Melville, Chaucer and the like were all brilliant. But they were the past. That's where the Arts resides. In the past. Holding onto something that's no longer there. Yes, the past is important. But so are the present and the future. The subject of Literature refuses to regard anything contemporary as art. And that is what is their shortcoming. I guess a 100 years later, our works will be considered 'art'. But don't they see? Anything that represents the world as it is today, is ART. Whether it is a satirical tirade against Donald Trump, a stand-up comedian, a writer, a painter. It's all art. Jhumpa Lahiri (and so many others), with her words, paints a world so real, you can almost touch it. It's a world we recognize. It's the world we live in. And isn't that the world we should be studying? I'm not saying we should forget all the Greats. We shouldn't. But what context are we learning them in? How will we ever apply this in the real world? An interviewer doesn't care if you know the most famous first line. He wants to know if you can do the job. The Arts are a window to understanding the world in a way like no other. And if you truly understand the world you live in, there isn't a better candidate than you. It tells you the harsh reality, and yet gives you a ray of hope. It helps you see the beauty and the ugliness. The Arts has the potential to be the guideline to live one's life to the fullest. If only we could get our heads out of our asses. 

Where Do We Begin?

I was sitting in my political science class the other day and my teacher was talking about women and politics. She stated that no female politician in India had risen to the top without some connection to an influential man. Sonia Gandhi would not have entered the political arena had there not been so many deaths in her family. Mayawati wouldn't be a political force had it not been for Kanshi Ram. Also, the women haven't done much for women's rights. Another observation my teacher made is that, they haven't come to power out of a struggle or a movement. It wasn't like the suffragette movement in England. Women in India have never really gotten up and fought for anything as a United front. The Nirbhaya case brought us together and yet, we haven't achieved much.
The problem is, where do we even start? Do we fight for equal pay? Do we fight for safer streets? Do we fight so that future generations do not have to listen to,"Tum wahan gayi kyun?"(why did you go there?), when groped in public? Do we fight for the simple reason that we deserve to be treated as equals? Not metaphorically, not opportunistically, but truly. Where do we start?

Bidding Adieu and Saying Hello

It's officially my last day on earth as a teenager. Tomorrow I shall become an adult. A real life, walking, talking adult. Huh. That doesn't sound as frightening and ominous as I thought it would. So what did I do to commemorate this very sacred day? I studied. Quite mature of me, no? Perhaps premonitive of the years to come. It's been nice being a teenager.  Tantrums were considered rebellion, identity began to take shape, opinions were formed, friends were made, friends were lost, pimples were a constant enemy, so was a widening waistline. And as all good things come to an end, I bid my teenage years goodbye and say hello to my twenties. Here's to a whole new decade of establishing who I am; here's to a decade of actually acting my age; here's to a decade of falling in love (fingers crossed), here's to a decade of no childish temper tantrums (I will try my best), and finally, here's to the decade that I've been looking forward to since before I knew what it was like to grow up. Hello new friend, I hope we are good to each other. We are grown ups, are we not?

The Infinite Possibilities

I'm turning twenty in less than a month. Twenty! That feels so... Old, as a friend put it so eloquently! And yet I feel like I've barely lived. I've not even made a dent in my mental bucket list. At my age, James and Lily Potter were married, Harry was just around the corner and they were fighting the Dark Lord. Bella Swan (idiot that she is) married Edward Cullen at 18. Percy Jackson saved the world at 16; and again at 17. All I'm fighting, albeit half-heartedly, are pimples and an expanding waistline. I've done a decent job with the pimples though.
Twenty feels final. There's no turning back now. It's like an initiation into the adult world. You can't use the excuse of being a kid every time you make a mistake. The mistakes you make now could very well be permanent. But sadly, this is probably the decade you'll make most of your mistakes as well. I'll just comfort myself with the thought that everything happens for a reason. But honestly. Me, an adult? Really? Isn't an adult supposed to have, like, survival skills? And yet, here I am at the doorstep of the official club of adulthood, attending my first potluck and I've forgotten to bring what was asked of me. Can I get kicked out? How are we supposed to have it all figured out by now? Or at least, how do we appear to have it all figured out?
I feel like I'm standing at a crossroads. Conflicted, confused. Much like the poem 'The Road Not Taken'. Can't life be like maths or science? Where there's only one right answer? Why does it have to be like a subject of humanities-one with infinite answers?
And yet, I feel a sense of excitement that maybe now my life will truly begin. I will finally grow up (I don't have much of a choice, do I? :P). And, eventually, I will figure out how to deal with the Sun not shining on my life all the time. It shall be a beautiful adventure
Oh well, leaving you just as confused as I feel, yours truly,
Pallavi

Always..

Alan Rickman is one of my favourite actors. And not just because nobody could have played the role of Severus Snape better than he did. I loved his voice, his talent, his versatility, his intelligence, the fact that he fell in love, married and stayed with the same woman he met at 19. I loved the fact that when you watched him play the role of a villain, you couldn't imagine him as much else. And that's only until you watch him play a romantic role. He's Severus Snape from Harry Potter, Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensiblity, Hans Gruber from Die Hard, Sheriff of Nottingham from Robin Hood. He's all these people and yet he has a quality that's solely his own. His phenomenal voice that can sound intelligent, sarcastic, sardonic, chilling, disapproving, mocking, comforting and kind all at once. His voice, once heard, is unforgettable. He may not have been the most traditionally handsome actor around town, but there was something undeniably appealing about his face and his smile. He was brilliant and he has immortalized himself not just as one of the characters he played but as Alan Rickman. He will be missed. Always.