I have fallen unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Benedict Cumberbatch

...'s voice.

And alright, maybe also a little bit of him.

"This love, which was the first of my life, taught me almost nothing of the ways of the world, for it was perfectly happy, not tarnished by the slightest self interest."

2011

I got my awesome, awesome, awesome laptop. And even though it gives me trouble from time to time, I love it with all my heart. And I would CERTAINLY lose the will to live without it.

I did my first moot. Bleh. Mockery it was. BUT it made me realize my strengths. And now I know what to do in that area.

I got to know a LOT of new people. And for the most part this has turned out to be good. Which in my experience is something new. I call these people friends now. And I'm happy about it, for once.

My first birthday in college. FUCKING brilliant. Credit to some rather...imaginative people around me. SO much fun.

IMS. Boring details that are consequential only to me. But still, a significant moment when I got that phone call. Didn't dawn on me until quite some time actually.

Movie spoof. With amazing people. Of amazing movies. Good shit. =D

And as a good friend reminded me, after which I whacked myself for forgetting, Europe. Summer 2011. Switzerland, France, Italy, London. Heaven. I could NEVER, ever give up travelling.

And this is just some of 2011. I had no idea it would turn out to be so utterly awesome when it dawned. It's been a brilliant year.
2012, you have some stiff competition. Better pull up your socks.

It already seems to be shaping up to be a pretty eventful year. Who knows, 2012 may just knock the socks off 2011. I sure hope it does. Even if we all die at the end. =D

Happy New Year everybody :)

How to Make Your Third Semester in Law School Highly Eventful

1. Get into trouble with the authorities 3 days into college because a friend exhibits very clearly drunk behavior on campus. Essential Elements: Show Cause Notice, submission of a written explanation to the Registrar, and many nail biting and anxious moments wondering whether you will be subjected to a full fledged Proctorial hearing, as cool and akin to Harry Potter's hearing before the full Wizengamot in the 5th book it may sound.

2. Get elected into the MCC.
3. Help organize your first moot ever, which turns out to be rigged by the head organizers in a disgusting attempt to show Indo-Pak friendship. (Also, hope you don't get into trouble for blogging about it.)

4. Help organize a big level international moot, which thankfully goes well.
5. MAJORLY screw up your end sem exams which account for FIFTY per cent of your grade, on account of previous point.

6. Try weed for the first time.
7. Smoke up with people you met a couple of days before.
8. Participate in a moot with awesome people. Go to semi finals and win Best Researcher.
9. Reveal dirty truths about your past to your closest friends.
10. Taxi.
11. Break hearts. (S, I'm sure you'll appreciate this).
12. Get unabashedly hit on by someone you just met.
13. Show up drunk to a judge's doorstep to pick them up.
14. Accuse above of sinful activities while in a state of inebriation.
15. Show up drunk to an interview for a big level internship.
16. Land above anyway.
17. Discover how awesome it is to roam around campus in the dead of night and in the freezing cold.
18. "Work" outside of the hostel until 4 am.
19. Don't sleep properly for 2-3 weeks at a stretch, because you're JUST that busy.
20. Live.

Life is a Eunuch

Hoes, we got a theory for y'all. Life ain'tno bitch. No no. She is a very well formed eunuch. She got the dick, she got no balls. Ever heard the saying, life fucked you over? How do you think that's possible if the bitch has a vagina?!

THEORY:

We put our highly enlightened (and one slightly inebriated) minds together, and decided that it is not possible to fuck without a dick. Now everyone will agree, that life, for good or bad, is hot, coz everyone wants to get with life. I ain't met nobody who wants to die before they're forty. Everyone bitches about life being a bitch, sure. But no one realizes that that bitch got a cock. Why do you think women have two holes? Or why do you think even men have holes?! Because life can buttfuck us, homies. It ain't for any excretionary purposes.

Now see. When life gets all dressed up, she's so damn fucken hot. You really want to get with her. You so want her. But then when she takes that little skirt off, you see the real deal, and it ain't pretty, my friend.

Instead of pubic hair, she's got multiple cocks. To fuck multiple people over. When she says bend, oh boy, do we bend.

This is not emo. We're VERY happy while writing this. We just thought all you people out there should change the proverb from 'life is a bitch' to 'life is a eunuch'.

Please, don't be offended. For those of us who HAVE been fucked, y'all will know EXACTLY what I'm talking about, and how LONG that dick is. And for those of you who don't, dontcha worry. Life's a whore. She wants to get with all of us.

Closer

You can have my isolation.
You can have the hate that it brings.

You can have my absence of faith.
You can have my everything.

Unfinished Sentences

Feelings. Emotions. Too much in head.

Uneasiness. Queasiness. Simple boredom? Maybe. I think not.

Same old routine. Meet a new person. Get too attached. World does NOT revolve around ANY single person. Reminders to no effect. The heart wants what the heart wants. The mind thinks what the mind thinks. Obsession. Infatuation. Every action. Commanded by him. Always, at the back of my mind.

Shiny new object of affection. Unexplored, untouched. Boundless possibilities.

Time. Boredom. Nonchalance. Indifference. Too much effort for sustenance. Who gives a shit anymore? Unrequited love. Sour grapes. Commitment issues. Phobia. Of the future. Of the present. Of the fucking past.

Tapped personalities. Untapped personalities. Remaining untapped because I couldn’t care less. Fading away.

Pain. Hurt. Anguish. Don’t want this. Can’t help it. Wish I could.

Boredom.

Void. Filling? Substances. Contraband. Can’t get out. Of my head. Of this place. Stuck inside, knocking against the edges. Hurting. Need to take mind off. Sufficient distraction. Seemingly impossible. Contraband. Contraband. Revert to contraband. Houston, we have a problem.

Emergency. Trouble. Parents. Fuck it. High. Happy. Sway. Live. Peace.

Contented. After all this time.

Finally.

The Telltale Heart

She used to wear her heart on her sleeve. It was open, it was free.
It was vulnerable.
It was prone to damage from inclement emotional weather. From without, from within. So it got hurt. It got hurt repeatedly. It was stabbed again and again, over a period of years, brutally almost. Like a bad murder movie scene. By the end of all that time, the heart had nothing but knife wounds all over. Every time it was stabbed, it had spurted thick, dark, red blood. So much of its blood was gone now.

It had retreated. It was scared now. It was a basic instinct to step back and distance oneself when one got hurt repeatedly. And so the heart had retreated into her chest. And it had become blacker, drier, more shriveled. Almost as if it were descending into old age. It had lost its youth, its vitality. She was only twenty five. It had closed up whatever was left of its soft, mushy insides, within a hard outer wall. It was more cynical now, harder. And wary. Wary of more hurt. And it would not let itself get hurt any more.

She wondered if it would open up again.


P.S. Extra points to those who understand the connection of the title with popular culture.