Not Just Another Teenage Blog

The poem Bella never wrote...

2008-08-26T09:09:00.005+05:30

They’re addictive, his eyes are,

When up close, they see so far.

In one glance, they hold me,

Melted gold and honey.

Big and deep, with Saturn’s brow

To overshadow, and how

It hurts when they regard

anyone but me.

Those lashes are long and soft,

Cows eyes my friends scoff!

I ignore them: jealousy, and all I feel

Is their lovely brown, warmth seeping into me.

They caught me watching once

I turned the colour of rust.

Turning away, I caught a smile

In those eyes… and it stayed for a while…

They’re quizzical at times,

And stormy too.

They turn my tortured insides to goo.

How they question without a word,

And drip contempt on something absurd.

They light up, like sparkling sunlight

(Through drops of amber frozen fast on an ancient tree)

When someone cracks a joke, but beware,

Of that sharp stare,

The joke may be on you – take care!

I love his eyes the best, though,

When he looks away, unseen

And dreams thoughts: fanciful (I think)

And I can watch, and never blink,

Till he slips out of his day dream.

So strange against his skin so white

They look, like the sun reflected

In a pool of water on the road,

Deep, dark gray and gold.

Ah, if ever I could own them, and call him my own!

Why every selfish joy and pleasure, I’d happily disown!

Homework Blues

2008-06-02T17:15:00.005+05:30

Well, the summer vacations have started and it's that time of the year again. To be more specific, it's time for *drum-roll* HOMEWORK!!!

I'm supposed to have started days ago. You see in IB, we're supposed to be a self motivated lot of kids. But the thing is, there are sketching and reading and catching up on movies and shopping to do. And not to forget the very important social element of every teenagers life - friends. So, basically, I've managed to get nothing done, and am feeling very guilty about it.

When I was a kid, I used to wonder if homework could get any tougher than this (well, technically I AM still a kid.). Well now I know it can! I now have a 4000 words Extended essay, a 1600 words TOK essay (topics for which are presently rotting in my inbox) and my chemistry (>.<) homework (lying somewhere in the deep, dark, yet-to-be-explored recesses of my school bag) to do. Add to that, my SAT preparation (all my Harvard dreams shattered cruelly by my last results) and math tuitions I 'should' be starting with soon and what do you get? Me, at my creative peak! My sketches are turning out better than ever. I've decided to take drums lessons and what-not. All I need to now do, is consider taking up a sport (which, knowing my undying resistance to physical activity, isn't about to happen in the near future).

It may sound like an excuse, but it's also very hot. And which lethargy infused student wants to study when it's hot? I mean the whole idea of a 'summer vacation' is, well, vacation. Rest, relax, refuel, recharge and most importantly, recuperate! Which sadistic idiot came up with the idea of holiday homework anyway? I frequently wish I could go way back to the Anne of Green Gables era, or even better, the Pride and Prejudice era. What better, than spending your time flirting with cute, gentleman-like boys, with the aim of snagging one of them in holy matrimony? Okay, now I'm rambling!

I have dreams, I am ambitious, and, well, I plan on ‘being the change’ *super-hero stance*. I'm no bimbo, spending every minute of my time dreaming (read: fantasizing) about Zac Efron *drool*. I plan to become famous, I'll have you know! And I still have a month to do my homework! (Ah! There you go. Out pours the reason for these dark, sinful confessions: the ever effective-guilt!)

Ah! I see! You don’t believe me! You think I’m making excuses! Well then you yellow-bellied, dastardly poltroon! I’ll show you! You think you can snigger and walk off without my noticing, do you?! Well, just you wait! I’m off to my books now. Even my open sketch book won’t stop me! Just you see! You’re one of those people who think no one's as perfect as they are! Yes? Well, here then. Take a look at these sketches! Bet you can’t do even one as good as these! Took me years of practice Ah, see you admit it yourself! Wait, stop it this instant! I demand to know what you’re laughing at, at once!

i rethink Disillusionment

2008-03-10T00:25:00.000+05:30

I just re-read the last post, and it sounds like someone begging for pity. Uugh.

Disillusionment

2008-03-10T00:24:00.002+05:30

“Wisdom comes by disillusionment.” OR "It is only a step from boredom to disillusionment, which leads naturally to self-pity, which in turn ends in chaos.” I’ve always lived my life with background music. As a kid, life was like a Disney movie, or an Enid Blyton book. There was always magic just around the corner, the mean bully in school always learnt her lesson and Santa and Tooth Fairy left me gifts every Christmas, for every broken tooth. I used to dream that I was a lost princess, and maybe, that my parents were ‘hiding the secret of my birth’ and that one day, the wonders of my true identity would be revealed to me. No I don’t suffer from Schizophrenia. No, life wasn’t smooth. People were blunt and rude. There were so many times, when all the castles came crashing down, stone foundations included. But I persisted, almost stubbornly, in believing that every dream wasn’t just a ‘dream’. But the world teaches 'nerds' with rose tinted glasses hard lessons. My first harsh fall was the discovery that Santa Clause and tooth fairy were just made up. When my mom told me, afraid that I’d be ridiculed in school, I cried. But later, with child-like faith, I convinced myself that she was just bowing to pressure of the world, and that I would be strong and continue in my belief. I would be the one faithful. The one foolish faithful, it was more like. When people were unkind, I almost willed myself to believe that they had reasons. Troubled childhoods, trauma, my foolishnesses were all reasons for their unkindness. And it wasn’t that I wasn’t confident. In fact I was and still am a confident extrovert. Maybe that’s why all my castles could be attacked. I suppose, if you talk a lot, you are bound to expose your thoughts. I trusted people very easily too. But I suppose it was this same trust and openness that allowed me to rebuild the castles that were torn down. I envied girls who were quiet and shy. Sometimes I really wished I was the same.