A Tale of Clutter

I sat down to declutter my stuff today. All those things I'd been saving since fifth grade were lying in front of me in four boxes. Okay, maybe fourth grade. Now, I'm someone who used to never let go of the tiniest scrap of paper. I was The Cluttermeister – the Big Kahuna of the Clutter World. Even expressing the need to throw away (unnecessary) stuff by anyone would have me huffing and puffing away to glory. Consequently, half the stuff we used to lug around while shifting from one place to another used to be mine.

Then I changed. From the seene-se-na-door-kar-paaongi attitude, I became just the opposite. Now clutter irritates me. It makes me want to tear my hair out. It makes me want to turn into a humongous dragon and unleash my awesome firepower on the nearest person. And I love decluttering. It's therapeutic for me.

However, today I was slightly upset because of a text I'd received after my dance class. Combine that with the decluttering phase in which I need a private bubble measuring 8×8 feet and I instantly became fiercer than a tigress guarding her cubs/ Voldemort in his I-must-kill-POTTER! phase.

I emphathize with you, Voldy. I really do.

The worst thing that happens is if you intrude in my private bubble. I become unnecessarily rude and cranky and it doesn't matter who you are – I don't discriminate. The following exchange took place between me and my dad:

 

Father Dearest: How's it going?

Yours Truly: Go away!

Father Dearest: Have you decided what to keep?

Yours Truly: <steely glance that could melt ice>

Father Dearest: Umm..

Yours Truly: <steely glance that could melt steel>

Father Dearest: *sigh*

 

I'm not nice. Not at all.

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!! :( :( :(

 

The Years That Were

It’s funny, the way you sometimes just tend to think about the past. And then you think about the present and it hits you – WHAM! Things change. I’ve been fed this perception that no matter what, there’s one thing in this world that would never change, and that’s me. But somehow that’s not right. Everyone changes. Everyone. It would be silly for me to say that that’s not correct. After all, change is constant.

I love that line :D

Today I was thinking about one of those particular things that has changed about me, and it’s something I hadn’t really paid attention to. It’s related to dance.

I wasn’t always like I-don’t-give-a-damn-whether-people-think-I’m-crazy-while-I-dance kind of a person. In fact, till about 9th grade I used to feel like I had two left feet and whenever we used to put up programmes in school, I’d feel inferior. I remember the way it used to take me more time to get used to a routine and the way my friends constantly used to tell me to smile (it used to come on automatically the moment I was on stage, but during practice I would give Frankenstein serious competition in unsmileyness). I loved dancing but I thought far too much.

Then something happened.

It came from this time in 10th grade when I’d gone for an army camp and we’d practised the whole day for the talent show. As usual, I was giving myself a lot of grief about the way I was taking more time than my friends to brush up on the routine. But that day, when I finally went on stage, I didn’t think about how I would do. I just danced with all my heart. That day, there were about 200 people there, but I didn’t give a damn about any one of them. They could have said that I was the worst dancer they had ever come across and I would’ve just said “Ok!” to them and walked away. I lost my inferiority complex that day and it hasn’t dared to come back.

When people say that you should dance like not a single person this planet exists, they actually have a point. There are times when I’m dancing that I realize that if I were watching myself, I would either laugh my guts out or call the mental hospital authorities. And that’s when I just tell myself to shut up and get back to dancing.

Peace out!

How To Have Fun During The Commonwealth Games

People say it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Of course, it's not every single day that India decides to hold the Commonwealth Games and the organisers decide to give it to us. However, it is everyday that something or the other in this country gets a bad rap from the media. So, thankfully, it's good to see something go well. Even with the amount of negative publicity that this event has received that has cost it so many tourists, it's one hell of an experience. So, here's my list of how to spend these 11 days (especially if you're a student, like me, in which case you have holidays rights now):

1) Watch the Games: What were you expecting? Sleep?? I know, that's important too, but just go and watch some of the games. There are so many to choose from, it will blow your mind. And the feel of watching an event sitting in a stadium is *absolutely amazing*

2) Eat: Loads of restaurants are getting into the CWG-is-Awesome! mode and they are offering discounts. It's a total party mood out there. Eat! Have fun!

3) Watch cultural programmes: The Govt. wants to show-off India's rich culture. Ergo many cultural programmes are being held in different parts of the city. Catch them especially at places like Dilli Haat, where you also get regional food at different stalls.

4) Shop: Help out the economy! Help in the circulation of money!

5)Sleep: As I said, it's important :D. And if you're the kind of a person who likes to do nothing better than sleep, you'll love it. With the traffic on the road, that's an awesome way to spend your time ^_^

The Cake That Was

Guess what I did?

I guess the title kind of gives it away :D

I baked a cake! A beautiful, soft vanilla-chocolate spong cake that was not exactly spongy but still amazing enough for a first cake. I'm not counting the 'Baking Disaster' cake because that had gotten ruined even before it had baked properly for the simple reason that I had not bothered finding out whether microwave-plastic utensils could be used in convection mode or not. Bah.

Anyway. This one turned out funny-looking and it certainly wouldn't have won a prize in a baking competition, but the taste was y-u-m! And the best thing was seeing my mom gorge on it. She doesn't really like sweets, but she loved the cake. And I'll be baking another one tomorrow.

Put your hands up for the newest baker on the block! Yarr!!