HYSTERIA

Nine months and finally a new post.
Even better, hopefully, the last.



Why the post:

Terence gets pissed too often, too soon. That’s something he’s done, to others. And one suspects that he doesn't care. Or does he? And this is a problem, probably. He’s stopped caring. About people who were close to him or the other way around too. The sudden need to close down is strange as well.

And just a quick word, this post may come across as a self-obsessed story of high pittance  but the ventilator was required. So go ahead and read if you know Terence. And if you don’t know him, then just test your skills of pittance.



The post:

There are times when feelings are a wretch. And the person, wretched.

Anyway. It’s been a long time, and a little flashback here.

There were times when Terence would be the one who’d visit IIMC to spend some time with his friends. And some more flashback here, the time when everyone would take refuge under the glorious silhouette of a lucky DSE tree which made every hour, with every passing hour, friendly.

However, we know, time changes everything. So keeping that tradition in mind, everything seems like folklore now.

About a fortnight ago, Patrick called Terence and gave the latter a piece of his mind. Never mind the reason why, it was uncalled for. For what’s sad is the fact that Terence thought Patrick knew better. Sure, Terence might have taken it far but that was only because he was probably coming close to the glorious days when Vincent and Terence would collectively make up stories about Patrick for some harmless fun and non-sexual poke. Then again, life’s probably become a little too serious. But it was Terence at fault, as usual, like many feel. Ergo, the apology followed as well.

Also, sometimes, being rude is being comfortable. Absolutely rude and insensitive. A few weeks ago, Baharul spoke to Terence about a certain female the former had begun to like. Terence, on the other hand, mocked him off and did not care. Not only did Terence act like an insensitive swine, he made no effort to give an excuse why. The indifference probably hurt Baharul, but he gave away nothing.

Now, in a completely parallel timeline, Vincent is a someone Terence is terribly fond of. And now, they’re terrible when it comes to keeping in touch. From once a week binge sessions to a once a month text message, telepathy stands a better chance. Such is life.

Meanwhile, while we’re being absolutely honest here and mentioning names that have been a part of ‘Super Perception’, it’s quite imperative to mention a few names that have always been held up high. Amanda, Monica, Nancy and Rihanna (alphabetical order, of course).

There’s something hysterical about Amanda. That goes without saying, without mentioning, without claiming. And candidly, Terence thought she was quite interesting. Nancy has been someone Terence has always been afraid of, because she’s extremely well-read. Rihanna always been a little mental, in a good intimidating way. But she’s a bright one. Monica, she was close once upon a time ago, but her words still flash around some corner in Terence’s head. And the words still cause wretchedness.

So while you're still here, you may begin to wonder why you’re reading Terence’s crap. If you’ve been following ‘Super Perception’ then you’d come across another wonder. You’d probably wonder why Patrick, Baharul and Vincent have been talked about in accordance to something recent and the other four as an overall perception.

Figure that one out.



For fuck’s sake, Vertigo suffocates and Perception agitates.

OF ONE ROSY DAY

‘The love that lasts the longest is the love that is never returned.’
- William Somerset Maugham.


Once upon a time, there was a young man who was in love with a woman. So far, so good. Also, clean. The woman was everything he ever aspired for. Even though, initially, he chose to maintain a distance; he knew a lot about her invisible veil and a smile that hid her inner-most anxieties, this made him go weak, week after week.

Meet Baharul Islam, the man who lived. He lived in our lake of thoughts which bridged him from a ‘Flower-boy’ to ‘Lover-boy’. And how he wished to become a ‘Play-boy’, which was (is) Patrick’s luxury. But that’s another story, another post.

Now, they had a history. Not Baharul and Patrick, but Baharul and Rihanna. So, like stated, they shared a history which was complex and complicated. They were never together but for him, the meaning of togetherness simply implied stealing a glance. That completed his day. There have also been occasions when Amanda or Samantha would try to cover Rihanna from our lead-man. But that never stopped him. From sending mails or text messages, nothing stopped him. That was the confidence he carried, until the day when he carried a ‘Flower Bouquet’. And, this is where it all comes in to effect.

The morning seemed all right. Nothing spectacular, nothing speculative. Anticipating a pivotal lecture, all the people in the classroom were submerged in a break. Getting in to specifics, Terence was just observing and Patrick was showing off his maroon sweat-pants. Vincent and Monica were discussing the adverse affects of feminism, while Amanda and Miranda were tying ‘Friendship bands’ on each other’s wrists. Nancy was on the phone. She, sometimes, would place her phone inside her rear pocket and sit on the table. And suddenly, Baharul was seen with his very close friend, Hitesh Iplani, holding a bouquet of flowers. And yes, it looked as though Baharul had presented the flowers to Hitesh.

To cut everyone some slack, the huge bouquet was for Rihanna from Baharul. Some thought he was asking her out, some thought he was insane, some believed he was a gardener. And like they say, truth is a strange mechanism. Baharul, in fact, had got the flowers for the purpose of asking for forgiveness for some shit he had committed earlier.

Nancy thought it was cute, especially the cards with every single flower in the bouquet; Amanda made fun and also displayed it to some people outside the batch; Monica thought it was mark of a new era and Miranda was just in love with her ‘Friendship band’.

Furthermore, to Baharul’s justification, he could have got her one effing flower but he thought Rihanna would throw the single flower back at him, in rage, which would hurt him. Therefore, he brought the entire bouquet, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to lift the heavy bouquet.

Now that the incident has outgrown for over four odd years, it would be safe to say that the emotion was right but not the expression. The bouquet would be a collective consciousness of all the people present there but in absolute totality; it will remain an occasion when flowers spoke to him more than written words.

Let’s simply remember Mark Twain in his saying, ‘Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.’

SIMPLY GANG LUST

“Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.”
- Marquis De Sade.


Lust is an important element in life, especially in college. Patrick, Vincent and Terence were no different. While two of them attached a committed tag before themselves, it would be best to be honest and narrate a tale about a lust story involving the three for someone who set their tongues permanently wet.

If there ever came a time when one could have an option of having many options, it would get them thinking. Really. Patrick could totally talk to her or could forcibly forget about her. At times, in anger, Terence might have displayed his wrath on her but she knew what she meant to him. Being with Vincent might not be the best thing in the world but he, probably, was her world. All things said and done, she had been through the trio’s highs and lows. She supported, listened and best of all, massaged their ever inflating ego.

Terence often wondered and trust Zeus, he wonders more than Alice. Anyway, let’s not divert from this blazing trio-logue. Like stated, he wondered a lot and in that process, he pretty much has her in his thought cycle and she tops his priority list, well almost. Holy cow, we’d run out of adjectives now.

A week ago, Patrick came home to her and he saw her from a thirstful distance. He slowly held her by her neck and looked at her as she totally dripped and soaked in water. Patrick took all the time in the world and placed her on his favourite table. Thereafter, Vincent brought himself closer and smelt her sweet fragrance. What followed was a pleasure that only a few understand, comprehend and also apprehend. Okay, let’s not get there. Let’s just keep the best things in life within our microscopic intensity.

On the whole, she refreshed the three and also tired them. You probably know how the contradiction works. Given a choice, they would have her anywhere- On a hammock, in a car, in a park, in an elevator and best of all, on a pool table. The thought makes Patrick, Vincent and Terence lust for more, even though they can feel her within themselves this very instant.

The fact remains. The three love their beer way too much.

SUPER SENIORS

“He may look like an idiot and talk like an idiot but don’t let that fool you. He really is an idiot.”
- Groucho Marx.

When you are a final year college student, the winds move in your direction and the roads lead to your destination. However, don’t take it literally. Of course, why would you- you are not illiterate. Else you wouldn’t have been a final year student. So, like I said, a final year student delivers a feeling of a weird charm within the boundaries of the space you referred as college; a boundary you set, out of which you never wanted to get out of.

Of course, that zone belongs to you and when someone tries to invade that space, you fight for your right. Your right to shout for freedom, your right to scream for independence and your right to yell for your ‘stuff’.

Once upon a time ago, there was a prince who rescued a princess from a monster and they lived happily ever after. Well, unfortunately for you, the post doesn’t stop here. So, bear the boredom.
Patrick deleted his ‘Orkut’ account because he claimed it was eating up his time and energy. He felt he was addicted to the damn non-narcotic thing. But insiders know better or rather, the insiders think otherwise. Now, one would give two or maybe three hoots if he deleted his account but the main-frame (not the fucking G.I.Joe) was that he was the owner of the college group on ‘Orkut’.

So how did that create a problem? Well, it did. Apparently, some guy took up the ownership since it was lying vacant. Since this weblog isn’t meant for mud slinging, let’s just call him Mr. Blessing. Now, he edited details and added a Shah Rukh Khan group as a related community. If that didn’t flip our balls in fury, his further actions did. This guy, who was our junior, tried teaching us the finer ways of posting comments and laid out new rules for the group. He added and deleted group moderators at his own will. He engaged in cocky comments and tried to back answer in way that was as cheesy as Baharul waxing his nasal hair.

And then one day, some seniors decided to act like seniors. The people involved were Baharul, Hitesh, Monica, Kotoky, Patrick, Samantha, Subhojit, Terence (In alphabetical order). Vincent was absent because he was vacationing in a surreal place called ‘Fuck you I don’t want controversy but I’m with you emotionally’.

So the seniors collected themselves and marched on towards the place where the junior classes took place. It was unreal. It was like a scene from ‘The Iliad’ where the Greeks stormed into the Trojan territory. Only that; there were no Trojans but just one ugly Paris who wore two things- an idiotic look and a boomerang smile.

So, we surrounded him like the surround sound out of a high definition digital Dolby home theatre system. You get the point, that’s what matters. We took him to the BBC (Basketball Court) and Jesus, what fucking good waste of time. Initially, no one made sense because all of us were yelling. Then we realized we were sounding like the people in the parliament.

Slowly, each one gathered momentum and blasted him. We felt the force within. Here is an excerpt from what each one said-

Monica – How dare you teach us how to speak!
Samantha – I will call you an ass. Take it literally.
Hitesh – What’s your fucking point!
Terence – Did you lose a bet or do you always dress up like this.
Kotoky – Kela saala (Banana brother-in-law), how dare you!
Patrick – Respect your seniors.
Baharul – Dekh bhai, aise nahi karte na (Look brother, this is not done no).


So, he wept a bit. Took out his red handkerchief and soaked his face. He didn’t sound a quarter of what he projected himself to be. He apologized and Monica wondered if he was a retard so she had a one on one with him where he came out even more confused and probably more mental. As we finished with our BBC episode, we realized we were pretty much united. So what if there were only about 5 or 6 people out of a class of about 40. If size did count then 300 Spartans would have never defeated a million Persians.

Thereafter, he learnt a lesson and so did we. The lesson he learnt closed him entirely and the lesson we learnt got us closer.

Now, with time, we have no ill feeling for him and we wish him the best in everything he does, except Advertising. That’s for Patrick and Terence exclusively. However we can only hope that Mr. Blessing takes the positive out of this fiasco where he was a small pebble wanting to be a little boulder. And yes, ‘Boulder’ is not a spelling mistake.

THE PATCH

Some people lie everyday.

EDITOR -
We read your manuscript with great interest but regret that our schedule is complete.

DENTIST -
This is not going to hurt at all.

FRIEND -
You know I would not tell anyone.

SECRETARY -
The manager can’t see you. He is very busy.

LAWYER -
Would I be here if I were not convinced of my client’s innocence.

WIFE -
I’ll be ready in a minute.

(Courtesy- RD).



And therefore, like normal people, all characters in ‘Super Perception’ lie, and when they do, they give the word ‘Lie’ a whole new definition, dissertation and dimension.
There have been times when one could hear Baharul, an ardent Salman Khan fan, say, “Salman is an icon”. To which Patrick replied, “I wish. Then I could right-click on him and hit delete”. Times have also witnessed the numerous times when Vincent tried to impress many random women through a conversation involving literature. Maybe his boobs for books scheme was too far fetched. Tales involving Vincent will only open up his liaisons with school girls, so we should put an end on his explicit details.

However, in the simplest of simplicity and the noblest of nobility; there was a time; a time for supersonic heroics, a time for noble acts, a time for melodramatic background music. We could also define this time when a good deed was rewarded through good weed in good speed. Anyway, like stated, there was a time. A time when it was impossible to tell which boy was undergoing chemotherapy. Nearly all the boys were bald.

Hitesh, Kotoky, Patrick and Terence shaved their heads so that a sick friend wouldn’t feel out of place. Baharul shaved his head for a romantic reason but claimed it was for his sick friend. Ved also followed, like usual (Nothing new).

Vincent was the one who was sick. Okay, we know he might be sick in the usual sense but this time, he was medically unwell. Doctors removed a semi-malignated tumor from the left side of his brain. And if you thought brains were pink or grey, think again. According to the medical report, Vincent’s brain was yellow in colour. Meanwhile, one could suspect Vincent having a tumor in that region since there were several things on his mind; it was just funny how the things he had in mind turned heavy which created the lymphoma of the metatarsal in neuro-biogomatics (I don’t have a fucking idea what created what where, I just felt like using the words). By the way, Vincent’s brain was reportedly yellow in the report because the surgeon was using a yellow ray beam so he got confused.

Anyway, a month after the tumor removal, Vincent started chemotherapy to treat the lymphoma. He decided to shave off his head before the hair-fall. That’s when he went silent and withdrawn from the world. Patrick and Terence couldn’t see Vincent like this; therefore they raised a petition to shave off their heads to support Vincent. It was good for Patrick as he was already undergoing a bald patch from the right side.

Between all incidenst, one cold night, Baharul decided to give Vincent some company. Now, Baharul cannot sleep without counting sheep. You know the theory. So, Baharul was at it and quite loud, like usual. That’s when Vincent politely in a dusky voice asked him to STFU. Then, Baharul with full emotion for Vincent decided to count sheep on paper. Next morning, Patrick and Terence entered the hospital room and saw Baharul writing and counting sheep on paper.

Let's keep that incident aside. Meanwhile, Patrick and Terence roped in the remaining boys and decided to stand by their ailing and wailing friend. They asked the women too but they furiously declined. The next few months saw Vincent live on cabbage leaves, carrot tops and apple skins with olive oil.

And with everyday that we visited Vincent, there was a spark in his eyes- a spark which indicated a huge sense of belonging and brotherly love, which just didn’t come out because it felt uneasy. And it did actually happen, and at situations like these, you are at a loss for words because that is a time when telepathic vibes travel faster than verbal words.

To all that we ever shared and will share, to the words which never came out and to all those times when we stuck around somewhere with no apparent reason or apparel; it’s been good and it’s been us.

DEATH BECOMES THEM

They say you can’t have it all in life. Maybe we can. Imagine a scenario when we cease to be, yet we leave an impression which would make no one forget us. No, I don’t mean suicide bombings or any similar activity. And again, FYI, I don’t even mean loud farts in our deathbeds. It’s like this. We should put a thought into our epitaphs and get words chiseled in stone for ages.

Now, assumptively thinking, here’s what our epitaphs would read in accordance to one’s personality and characteristics. And yes, I know many of us would be cremated instead of being buried but then, who cares when one’s finished.


‘I told you I was sick. I thought you understood my missed call. Phone calls and text messages are expensive.’
- Abhishek Mukherjee.

‘The undiscovered country, from whose bourn; no traveller returns.’
- Amanda.

‘Here lies the body of Anurag Kotoky, done to death by a banana. It wasn’t the fruit that laid him low, but the skin of the thing that made him go. Oye Kela.’
- Anurag Kotoky.

‘A gentleman and a gentle man, ultimately remained gentle. His last words- Uffo.’
- Baharul Islam.

‘Is death the final sleep or the final awakening? What’s my point? What’s my point? Oh fuck, I asked the question twice. Only twice.’
- Hitesh Iplani.

‘She did it the hard way.’
- Miranda.

‘At least I died a feminist way defending women.’
- Monica.

‘We don’t know life; how can we know death?’
- Nancy.

‘I swam the seven oceans, I was a fucking swim champ but the jelly-fish thought otherwise, though it felt like a blowjob.’
- Patrick.

‘Hee hee-haw. Hee hee. I’m still giggling.’
- Rihanna.

‘Gone, but not forgiven.’
- Terence.

‘In my entire life, I dressed as though Stevie Wonder was my personal designer.’
- Ved Prakash.

‘So we must part, my body (my bazooka), you and I; who have spent so many pleasant years together. It’s sorry to lose your company, who clove to me so close.’
- Vincent.



Disclaimer-
Some of the words have been drafted from Hamlet and RD. Anyway, no offence to anyone. If offended, then great, thank you.

ELEVATION

What is more significant? Getting everything you ever wanted or getting everything you ever needed.

Nine months ago (non-maternity related), Vincent was flying back home after attending a wedding somewhere. Suddenly, he asks the flight steward for some beer. Now, they were 20,000 feet above sea level and the steward assumed he was already high. So, the steward comes back and tells Vincent that there's nothing to drink.

Pissed and embarrassed, Vincent decides to take matters into his own dirty lousy hands and goes to the store area, he finds a beer can and then snaps back to the steward-
"This is how you treat your passengers! I admit I'm travelling on a physically disabled discounted ticket (like always) but I'm still a passenger. This is not hospitality at all. You think 'popcorn' is something that grows in a field and makes music."

Then, he opens the door mid-air and throws the crate of beer out of the plane. The story above has no meaning. It's like giving a "tweetment" to a sick bird.

Anyway, it was also the day when Terence beat Patrick over a game of Tekken. Sadly, Terence felt a tight cramp in his right leg which did not feel right at all. After intense hours of continous gaming, he felt a thirst for some beer. So, Patrick volunteered to go out and get some. Two hours went by and he still didn't return. Terence wondered if Patrick had lost his way since he was complaining of a loose stomach and that he only took refuge in places with paper (he did not like using water- please visualize).

Thats when Terence decided that he had to stand up for what he believed in and he, at that point of time, believed in chilled beer. Terence got up, ignoring his cramp. As he stepped out, he saw Patrick lying flat on the street (with a dazzling smile amongst many a broken tooth). It looked as though something hit him on the head but thank goodness, he was wearing a helmet which said "Empty".

By the way, remember the crate of beer that Vincent threw from the aircraft.

Well, it hit Patrick.

It's a small world :-)


PS- This is an old post. Just re-shuffled it because the slot for the month of 'May' was lying vacant.

CRANK THAT LIKE THIS

When people say "It's always in the last place you look".
Of course it is. Why the fuck would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they?

When people, ‘point at their wrist while asking for the time’.
I know where my watch is, jackass, where the fuck is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is?

- Somewhere.



The two points above bear little resemblance to the post below. It was just to get your attention. And while you are here, make an effort to read this and post a comment. We all have our pre-conceived notions and we suffer from it. College was a burning bag of pre-conceived notions and ideas.

These were the thoughts pendulum’ing in young minds a week before joining college.


ANURAG KOTOKY-
A banana is also called Kela so why is it derogatory. I’m sure I’ll find the answers in college. I’ll not hesitate to make an ass out of myself to get well acquainted. I could get some decent fucks too but there wouldn’t be any blind girl in my class. But let my thought BEHOLD, there will be many young men curious about literature and the sexual texts. Maybe I could pluck a leaf there. Baal kela.

BAHARUL ISLAM-
When I join college, I will be ahead of the game. I hope they like Bollywood because I have a nice BOLLYWOOD shirt. I will also fall in love at first sight; maybe I will blindfold myself and open them when I smell a great ladies’ perfume. How romantic. I will get her flowers from the garden of love and we will sing songs. I will also be very loud because love is never silent and it’s voice is heard all over. Oho, this is getting ridhiculous.

HITESH IPLANI-
Thank God, I just waxed my chest yesterday else the girls would think I’m wearing a monkey suit. Anyway, I will have TWICE the fun and I will have twice as many friends. I am fair, slim and tender. I will be a hit. Asking women about heir G-Spots directly would be rude so I will simply ask them, ‘What’s your point?’.

PATRICK-
I am the fucking swim champ, at the national level. I will screw women under water and also become the captain of the college swim team. But hey, wait a minute, my fucking college doesn’t have a swim team. Hey, wait another minute; it doesn’t even have a pool. Why am I getting excited for nothing? Fuck, I will just talk about Maiden near the maidens. I could have gone to Bombay but I guess I’ll bomb every bay in the university. Holy cow, wow.

TERENCE-
Yawn.

VED PRAKASH-
The baybes shall have me. I will play a subtle role and work hard so that all women ask for my notes and while doing so, they could view the red roses between the pages. Maybe then, I could get between the sheets with them. I hope no one else comes up with the red rose idea. I wanted to become a physical physician like my name suggests but English honours seems honourable. I will also not take a stand in order to please everyone.

VINCENT-
Fuck, another new college.



"That's not mean; mean is when I made Jen Mancini ride her bike home after I ass-fucked her."
- Johnny Drama (Entourage).

VOGUE

PROLOGUE:

“The world’s big enough for all of us. And besides, so what if women could influence government, take over big business, alter domestic policy, dominate education, make the world a better place. In one important respect, we still had a lot to teach them. Yeah, when it came to being jerks, they still had a lot to learn.”
- TWY.



One fine day, as the boys were discussing their woes.

Patrick – How am I supposed to know the difference?
Terence – Huh.
Patrick – Between a lip gloss and nail paint.
Terence – Oh. This happens.
Patrick - Or a kajal and black lipstick.
Vincent – Ask women if they know what a PS3 is.
Terence – It’s like asking us what peep toes are.
Baharul - I am a peeping tom, I admit (he shouts).
Patrick – Easy man, don’t shout. So, what is a peeping toe?
Vincent – Peep toes are a style of shoes.
Terence – Right, they are not actual body parts.
Patrick – And how come both of you know?
Vincent – Oh. That’s a funny story.
Patrick – Tell me also.


FLASHBACK:

A year ago, Vincent and Terence gate crashed a very subtle yet obnoxious event. Terence was apprehensive but Vincent was cool like a cold turkey, “It’s a bloody subtle event and I am sporting a bloody stubble”. Many of the things which Vincent said had no concrete meaning which often seemed utterly and butterly pointless, but that’s what made Vincent a main ingredient in the recipe of our college life. Terence seemed confused but knew that it was a package that came along with Vincent.

The fine event was centralized in a private lawn around a rather beautiful water fountain. The night was clear and bright because of few stars which made up the formation of the large intestine. At such swanky places and events, the booze and grub are usually paid for; so the event was crashed and the two pretended like they knew everyone. After five rounds of the finest scotch, the voices grew louder or maybe it was just in their head and then out of nowhere, this extremely HOT woman tapped on Vincent’s shoulder. As he turned around, Terence drew a myopic mental perception of the hot woman. He calculated that the woman was well spoken but not well read, well dressed but not well attired, wealthy and snobbish but articulate with an attention for detail.

By the way, the intricate details mentioned have no major significance because she isn’t a major character. Anyway, she tapped Vincent’s shoulder and when he saw her, he turned ecstatic or maybe he wished he had some ecstasy, whatever it was; Vincent was shining in pride that a woman, that too a sizzling hot woman, approached him. Then he tried to project his gentleman type behavior and softly grinned while asking, “Helloo, how are you doing this evening?”, while he asked this question, Vincent quickly nudged Terence as if to say, “Watch the player do his thing”. Maybe the nudge came a little too soon because the hot woman said, “A cosmopolitan please and double up the service, it’s rather slow”.

Fuck. Vincent gave Santa Claus serious competition. Never had Terence seen this look on Vincent’s shameful face, he was all red (maybe in anger, maybe in embarrassment). Words, which flowed out of Vincent’s mouth like a down sloped river, seemed like some Mexican juice, unexplainable and uncommentable. It was a funny sight because the two were drunk and didn’t really know what happened till it actually happened. It took Vincent some minutes to gather himself and say, “You have got it wrong, I’m no waiter”. The situation might not seem funny on paper but it was initiatively laughable. The hot woman then replied with a typical woman-ish overtone, “Oh dear, apologies”. “That’s okay, I’m sure he took it nicely”, said Terence, who loved the moment as it was way too imaginatively funny.

Then Vincent notched up a smile. It was the kind of smile that we displayed when we visited spark-notes before any terminal examination. “I shall accept your apology only if you have some drinks with me”, Vincent said. She was reluctant as it clearly showed on her beautiful face; she was way above their league. She politely refused and stated, “My girlfriend is waiting outside and I just broke my heels”. Terence and Vincent thought, “There’s another one like her! Wow”. Terence offered her his zippo as she lit a cigarette which seemed imported. “Thanks, wish I had a ballerina or a peep toe right now. It would have been so comfortable for me”, she said this and both the boys heard just one word out of the complete sentence- ‘Peep Toes’.

Then Terence and Vincent have a whispering conversation.

Terence – Peep toes.
Vincent – Are you thinking what I am thinking?
Terence – I don’t know but I am thinking.
Vincent – I think she and her friend want us.
Terence – How can you say that?
Vincent – Peep toes.
Terence – So?
Vincent – She’ referring to our lovely genetic organs.
Terence – I don’t think so.
Vincent – Watch the player do his thing.

Then Vincent winked at her while saying, “You wanna see my dick, babe?”. She looked at him and said, “You got it wrong. Don’t read signals when there are no signs”. Vincent snapped back, “Are you talking about Derrida?”. “You can get lost now, you waiter face”, she further said, “Don’t take everything as a sexual lingo, peep toes are a style of shoes”.

Terence enjoyed the laughter, and the damage was done. Vincent’s ego and image dropped as though he was thrown out of a plane without parachutes. At a situation like this, it is very typical of a man to adapt strange defence mechanisms. “You said one of your girlfriends was waiting for you, therefore you dropped signs and when we caught the hints then you act pricey”, Vincent commented upon which the hot woman snorted, “I dropped no hints. I felt bad for calling you a waiter and spoke so that you wouldn’t feel humiliated. FYI, my girlfriend is my girlfriend. Not for both of you”.

There was an awful almost funny silence. Terence broke it, “So, you are a lesbian?”; Vincent quickly snapped, “There are no such things as lesbians, just women who never met me”.

“This is it. I’m leaving. I had no clue you would get ideas if I got a little friendly”, she further slammed, “It is because of men like you that women fancy themselves”. Then, she stormed out carrying her stilettos in her hand as the heels were broken. All this because of a peep toe.


The foggy flashback thoughts evaporated and one could hear Patrick and Baharul share smacking laughter.

Patrick – Ha ha, peep toes?
Vincent – Happens.
Patrick (mocking) – Watch the player do his thing. Balls!
Baharul – Was she a lesbian.
Terence – I think so.
Vincent – No she wasn’t.
Patrick – Then?
Vincent – She was playing hard to get.
Baharul – How do you know?
Vincent – Oh I know. I’m a … (he stops himself).
Patrick, Terence and Baharul – Player! Ha ha ha.



MORAL:

The power dynamics between men and women never stop, do they? Player or no player, peep toes or ballerinas; men are just about nothing without women. But still it's hard to find words to write something about women who leave a mark in our lives. The women I know may leave an impression of being submissive, but confidence is something they don’t lack. And that is really what woman-hood should be all about.


EPILOGUE:

“A woman has strengths that amaze men. She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens. She holds happiness, love and opinions. She smiles when she feels like screaming. She sings when she feels likes crying, cries when she’s happy and laughs when she’s afraid. Her love is unconditional. There’s only one thing wrong with her, she sometimes forgets what she is worth.”
- Some feminist (who never claims to be one).


Happy ‘belated’ Women’s Day.


PS- Belated, on purpose, because she ‘is’ often forgotten (like this post). Btw, this post is titled ‘Vogue’ for the exact reason.

URBAN LEGEND

“An Urban Legend is similar to a modern folklore consisting of stories thought to be factual by those circulating them. Urban legends are not necessarily untrue, but they are often distorted, exaggerated, or sensationalized over time.

People sometimes take urban legends to be true, instead of recognizing them as tall tales or unsubstantiated rumours, because of the way they are told. The teller of an urban legend may claim it happened to a friend, which serves to personalize and enhance the power of the narrative. Since people, unconsciously or otherwise, often exaggerate, conflate or edit stories when telling them, urban legends can evolve over time.

Additionally, urban legends will often contain a grain of truth (in that, many urban legends are at least somewhat plausible, if not actually possible).”




Monica rightly pointed, “This blog is turning into a boy’s night out fun shit.”

Actually, the blog was supposed to be a reflection of the collective thoughts in college and honestly, the fact remains that the guys had a little more fun. I know it’d be a hard pill to swallow for the other sex but we do love the other sex (okay, let’s not go there).
A ‘women-only’ post was on my mind ages ago but then, like you know, apprehensions run deeper than comprehensions. The only thing that paused me was the reaction, but then I realized that menopause would take place when one would turn 60 and since I am just 23, I should not pause.


INLINE:

We were quite sucked into Greek literature sometime back. This post is somewhat related to that supernatural zone and hence, has words which come from Mount Olympus (I’m sure you’re thinking of the camera, dumb douche-bags!). Be smart, don’t believe whatever it says. Well, believe the Greek mythology for all the glamour attached but don’t believe its relevance with the post. But in case, you do believe the relevance then welcome to the world of Super Perception.


OUTLINE:

Back in the innocent days, there were two MAJOR groups. We had no hood or a ghetto therefore they were just groups not gangs.
The Athenas’ were the ones who had wisdom, wit and craft. They were intelligent, very social, accurate and jovial however there was a catch. They owned a lance to dance from France called ‘arrogance’.
The Aphrodites’ were the wish list of many mortals. They were suave and beauty was the major highlight. However, they had brains to match the looks and with this combination, they carried a fragrance called ‘arrogance’.

By Arrogance, I don’t mean ‘that’ arrogance. It only implies arrogance as a similarity.


CHARACTER ASSASINATION (ALPHABETICALLY):

Amanda (Athenas’) - An individual whose ideas knew no boundaries. She had the firmness to take a strong stand for people close to her and had a fetish for good looking men. Musically inclined and fanatically impulsive.

Monica (Aphrodites’) – Headstrong, aggressive and anti-orthodox. She knew what she wanted and she often got what she wanted (in any way). She’d come initially across as snobbish and sarcastic but that’s how she liked to portray herself.

Rihanna (Athenas’) – Blend of conservatism and modernity. Good orator, super active in social causes and a bad judge of people. She had a mind of her own but often chose not to speak it. Extremely popular and ultimately- most spoken about.

Samantha (Aphrodites’) – Extremely well spoken and brilliantly crafted for making anyone feel like a flop-show. Emotion was her only weakness but she made sure she kept it under the wraps. If there was someone she loathed, she’d leave no stone unturned to put across a statement.


Now, these were the four major characters however, they were two other very important characters who would be absolutely pivotal later on-
Nancy and Miranda (The Twins) - The Artemis’.

By the way- Patrick, Vincent, Terence, Baharul, Hitesh, Subhojit, Abhishek, Ved, Kotoky were the ‘Satyrs’.
According to Greek mythology, ‘Satyrs’ were part human and part beast and were the gods of woods and mountains who amused themselves by drinking, merry making and pursuing the nymphs of the forest.

Patrick, Vincent, Kotoky and Terence were with the Aphrodites’,
Baharul, Hitesh, Ved and Abhishek supported the Athenas’.
Subhojit could not make a choice and abused other Satyrs’.



BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY:

‘The silence often caused violence’.

The Athenas’ never saw eye to eye with the Aphrodites’. Call it an inability or call it an ego clash, the two groups had issues that tissues couldn’t wipe. First things first, Athenas’ hated the exaggerated liberation policy practiced by Aphrodites’. This resulted in a series of events which only resulted in hiding notes which were meant for mass distribution. We could see the entire difference in the ethos, pathos and stilettos when the Aphrodites’ chose a Goa trip and the Athenas’ headed for Pakistan. That gave the Satyrs’ a lot of gossip.

Vincent – Aphrodites’ like to enjoy and that’s the right thing.
Baharul – Athenas’ are trying to improve the society.
Patrick – Society can eat my balls.
Ved – If we don’t improve society then you’ll never enjoy life.
Terence – Life is not sex which can be enjoyed.
Ved – Ya, I think you are right.
Kotoky – He is not right, he is Terence.
Baharul – So, who do you like?
Kotoky – Oh kela, what do you mean? Baal kela!
Hitesh – They are all nice but…
Patrick – Aphrodites’ rule and that’s it.
Baharul – Tell me whom you like.
Terence – You like an Athena’, don’t ask us weird questions.
Baharul – Yes, I love her. So?
Kotoky – Kela.
Hitesh – I liked Samantha earlier.
Kotoky – Me too.
Vincent – Apparently, you like Nancy too, eh?
Hitesh – So what? I have a large heart. Enough space for love.
Patrick – Fuck you bitch. How many times have you fallen in love?
Hitesh – Only twice.

Abhishek – Guys, I think I can’t perform when it matters.
Baharul – Arrey, even I performed badly in the exams.
Vincent – He means another performance, jackass.
Baharul – Accha, dance performance?
Patrick – No man. Try to understand.
Baharul – Then it must be a singing performance.
Kotoky – Kela.
Vincent – Exactly !
Baharul – Haww! Naughty boy.
Abhishek – Throw this guy out.
Patrick – Abhishek man, just fake it.
Abhishek – It’s not emotional, it’s mechanical.
Vincent – Come to papa. Come here.


Anyway, the ‘Satyrs’ were pretty much united in conversations as compared to the other two groups. You should have noticed that Subhojit was no where in the ‘Satyrs’ conversation, that’s because he was busy running errands for both the groups. Every one knew that would take it’s toll someday, just like a bridge takes a toll for the crap it undergoes. One day, it happened, Rihanna did not like Subhojit mingling too much with a group who thought getting wasted was the best way to waste time. The ultimatum was given by Rihanna and surprisingly, Subhojit ignored her. It was speculatively surprising because of the relation Subhojit and Rihanna shared, they were like siblings and for all the love and affection they shared, Subhojit chose the Aphrodites’. No one can find a reason even now. People say that Subhojit fell for Amanda and she did not reciprocate or maybe that Subhojit thought he had a chance to learn all about make up and foundation with the Aphrodites’. The buzz that went around that specific time- Clueless.

One would assume many things but the fact remained. The Athenas’ hated the Aphrodites’ and the feeling was horridly mutual. We can guess why Rihanna issued an ultimatum to Subhojit and the following is the best analysis.
The Athenas’ were working on some college activity and Rihanna was busy with the billboard hoarding preparations. She worked very hard and expected appreciation for her efforts. The hoarding was up and Monica casually pointed to Subhojit that it should have been-
Ramjas College and HT present.
NOT Ramjas College and HT presents.

Subhojit laughed on Rihanna’s face over this and this evidently upset her a lot. This episode probably got Amanda and Rihanna to issue the ultimatum and boy, the ultimatum was golden just like any golden globe award. Anyway, like stated, he refused and chose to be with the ‘supposed’ eye candies of the college. Rihanna called Monica a wild heron thereafter and it also marked the aggression of both groups. Amanda spilled a bottle of ‘strawberry pickle’ inside Monica’s croc skinned Louis Vitton. That triggered Monica to an extent that Amanda had to lose some of her golden locks because of a chewing gum placed very strategically. One fine day, Samantha took the banter to another level. She asked if people actually help the ‘needy’ because they want to or because it adds to their resume. Concrete facts might entertain the thought that Samantha was only voicing what other people started but if that is a fact then we need to know who the other people were. Samantha was great in her ways. She was immensely outspoken, funny and full of wit but what she wanted was 'the mansion and not the apartment'. For the record, guys like Terence and Vincent would love to stay in an apartment and enjoy the weekend football with some anti-depressives.

Here’s a flash. Samantha was an ‘ex Athena’. Monica always claimed that Samantha quit the ‘Athenas’ whereas one Satyr swore that she was ignored when she was an Athenian. If there was any constant throughout the three years, it had to be the Patrick-Monica relation. The Aphrodites were a significant modern 'mansion' compared to the ever comfortable 'apartment' horizon that Athenas represented. The more you saw, the less you knew. People say that implementation of things is what keeps things going but as the world looks for order; there are some things which break the order and interrupt the exodus.

Between all the seriousness, there was a sweet funny patch. Apparently, a satyr had fallen for one of the Athenas. There was a lot of misunderstanding teamed with miscommunication. That makes you wonder, doesn’t it, as to how a mass communication aspirant would let miscommunication creep in, but it did. To solve it all, the innocent satyr presented a bouquet of the choicest roses straight from Mughal garden. This was followed by a nice conversation with the satyr carefully hearing every word-

Amanda – Wow. A bouquet. Congratulations.
Rihanna – Jeez, in full public view!
Amanda – Now you will be historically remembered.
(Some one behind gives a loud ‘bollywoodish’ giggle)
Rihanna – It’s not funny.
Amanda – It’s romantic, right?
Rihanna – It’s not fair.
Amanda – Flowers have the power.
Rihanna – But why me? I never instigated anything.
Amanda – The Ocean of love communicates.
Rihanna – Try to understand, all this could have negative effect.
Amanda – Yeah baby, but enjoy the moment.
Rihanna – I’m embarrassed. Really.
Amanda – It’s a gesture. Acknowledge it.
Rihanna – Notes behind every flower? Some gesture!

Amanda – This proves he was a science student earlier.
Rihanna – How?
Amanda – We are studying ‘Romanticism’ theory.
Rihanna – So?
Amanda – This was his practical.
Rihanna – Very funny.
Amanda – Trust me, he’ll give a viva and write a thesis too.
Rihanna – So, it is all science.
Amanda – Yes. And considering the blog we are in which is fiction.
Rihanna – The entire thing means, this is science fiction!
Amanda – Ahaan!!!


So, would you really believe it was science fiction?


Anyway, in between the realms of reality, the Athenas were walking on thin ice too. Though not concretely visible, Amanda and Rihanna had minor black outs. It happened when Rihanna took assertiveness seriously when she approached Amanda with a heartfelt propaganda to welcome a satyr’s feelings. And like Newton once stated that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, there was reaction but of a different kind. The kind that broke the satyr’s heart but which was stitched immediately over the thread of ‘more than a friend, less than a boyfriend’.

You can’t blame the satyr here because according to another satyr, the satyr in question had a mixed preference. Apparently, he swung the other way and the ‘much claimed’ love was a cover for his sexuality. Things were further proved when a ‘female’ junior failed to instigate his hormonal feelings.

As weeks went on, the Athenas were losing grip and the Aphrodites leisurely spent time at DSE. Amanda was developing a close bond with the Artemis. Nancy and Miranda were slowly overtaking Rihanna in Amanda’s life. Maybe she was undergoing a change, a change in the head and a change in life. Although none of it was ever made public but it showed. Rihanna was increasingly busy with social work and people said that Amanda was the one who was used to the attention and that’s where eyes didn’t meet. On the other hand, the sledging between Aphrodites and Athenas didn’t cease. Heaven knows why.

Nancy and Miranda were the best friends that people often spoke about. They were together and happy. On one occasion, they were BOTH seen wearing pink sweaters, pink socks, pink stoles and similar sandals. Both of them were 'leftists' but not Marxists. Miranda once wrote a love letter on behalf of Nancy when the latter’s hand was not well. Such was the bonding; they shared lives and were the thickest friends. Vincent claimed they would marry each other sometime in future and he would be the perfect prop.

Don’t we all agree that life picks up when we are at our lowest. Miranda and Monica had nothing in common except for the letters ‘M’ and the wonder boy, Patrick. No hidden icons here but in almost every banter that the two women indulged in, Patrick had a part, intentional or non-intentional. I wouldn’t go into the details of any fight but here’s a tiny example-

Monica – Stay away woman.
Miranda – You stay away and get on your life.
Monica – Do you even have a life to consider?
Miranda – I do, better than yours.
Monica – Yeah, that’s why you opt for forbidden objects.
Miranda – Don’t be a bitch.
Monica – Whom are you calling a bitch, bitch?
Miranda – WHOM are you calling a bitch, bitch?
Monica – Whom are YOU calling a bitch, bitch?
Vincent – Cut it out, girls. Love each other.
Patrick – Show me some love!


Winter bought a significant change. It was a time when all the women were significantly okay with each other. Don’t ask me how. It just happened. Well, that’s what we’d like to believe. Even if there was any hidden animosity, it was tried best to ignore. That was a good stage because all the women were passing smiles and kisses as if they were contesting for a beauty pageant show. They invited each other for social gatherings and fucking greeted each other first thing in the morning. One irritating thing was when they acknowledged each other as ‘baby’, ‘darling’, ‘doll’. It wouldn’t seem to the women but the men had a good laugh over it.

And boom! Just when we thought we lost the spice. All the women had ‘new’ issues to talk about. I guess the phrase ‘same old brand new you’ spread across yet again. Then, as the months went on, a lot of things kept happening. The cold war, mud throwing, sling matches, jab crunching, pasted chewing gum, personality attacks, relationship agonies, mental games, side kick upsets; all this never ‘actually’ ceased but still within that year of enormous finding, the women realized they were up for a lost cause and realized that another group stole all attention right under their nose. However, the time zone when ‘The Artemis’ attacked the Aphrodites and Athenas, some Satyrs shifted loyalty and probably because they were extremely tempted to. Who knows? But the fact was that no one knew which satyr supported whom.

There was also a time when global warming was compared to being activists and feminists were equivalent to global fretting. If you should know, then Athenas were the activists and Aphrodites were the feminists.

Sometime back, Monica and Miranda swore ‘non solemn’ words to each other over the phone. Then there were further mud-slangs thrown. Apparently, Samantha and Miranda spent some time together and when everyone assumed all was well; a well noted fact came out – Insecurity once, insecurity forever. Topics like diary entries, physicalities, mentalities, pot shots, leaked secrets, murdered trusts all came under the sun when it was absolutely raining cats and dogs. A satyr says, “It happened because they tried living together and besides, trying to forget the past even though they had their loyalties else where is dangerous.”


Samantha and Miranda were at it, full fledged, in public-


Nancy-
Bitching is considered a damn healthy option.

Samantha-
You telling me babe that bitching is healthy? Then I’m sure your best friend is the healthiest unfit person in class of 2007. Patrick and Monica, do you guys agree? And for your kindest info, Nancy, that woman has told me every single personal detail of your life in just a span of one week. Over and out (regarding this topic).

Miranda-
Oh no. It’s just begun woman...wait. Look who the fuck is bitching now; that too to people's best friends thinking they'll believe HER!! We sure know she is the MOST trustworthy person in class. Of course she is, she can dictate when a topic begins and when it ends... ha!! And as far as personal details go, I’m sure I can write documents on HER friend’s lives. I just don’t waste my time on stuff some people spend their lives on, like peculating negative image of people just for random publicity and being OBSESSED with personal details.

Samantha-
Woman, your long and loud comment proves you are guilty because at least I didn’t have to justify myself to people because they all know what you are from the beginning. Tell me na, what'd I say about my friends? Tell me, I’m curious and trust me I have nothing to do with Nancy either but I thought she should know who's told me everything about her, from her personal diary to her love life; poor Nancy, trusting a deadly serpent! All I’m glad about is you got through IIMC or else your negative effect would’ve rubbed off on me too and I don’t bitch behind people's back, what I have to say I say it then and there and everyone knows that. Miranda, one piece of advice- stop thinking the entire world is after you! Get a life please.

Miranda-
The bond between Nancy and her best friend is way too strong for ANY one who wishes to engage them in cat fights; unlike some other so called best friends who love bitching about each other! (NOW IT’S OVER AND OUT) blabber you female. I withdraw my attention from your cheap tricks!

Nancy-
Both of you stop now. The boys are having fun over this. We must unite as women and beat the shit of the boys.


Alas, it never happened. But here’s a thought-

Good girls keep diaries,
Bad girls don’t have time.




All the women mentioned in the post are significant, no matter what ANYONE thinks. The difference in opinion among all of them gave us a bitter sweet symphony. And like they say, ‘Variety adds spice to life’, we saw the spice and we, men, admit that we love these women no matter who was right or wrong. Just imagine! The women got into this mud battle only to entertain us, that’s being very very thoughtful. (Okay, don’t take it seriously).

Jokes apart, today, Amanda and Monica come across as pleasant surprises to each other. They make plans to meet and talk about the weather, books and the city; but they never get an opportunity to meet. Maybe they’d find it weird or strange to sit and have a free flowing conversation. In that case, they should stand and talk. Both the women have undergone quite a year. Both haven’t received what they truly want and both have suffered a little more than they deserved.

There could have been a mention of a relationship gone sour because somebody wanted that relationship for herself but then again, it’s easy to be judgmental knowing only one side of the story. However, since it would only recall old hurts so it’s best to not mention it and walk on.


SUMMARY:

It is quite impossible to summarize what actually went on and who actually was right. Perhaps, they started on the wrong foot in college but, now, as we mature with every passing day, it only helps to feel that life isn’t about fighting over petty issues. Please note that everything written is not a judgemental theory about what was right or wrong; neither is it about a morality report card. And for all the women who found some space in this post-

You can dance; you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the Dancing Queen.


Finally, I didn’t mean to go very personal and hollow but sometimes fiction should take a backseat. And even if reality is in the front seat, we realize that we are all running to a stand still.