So yesterday night, somehow i was in a very, very bad mood. And I had my grumpy face on. But then as i was online, i saw this video. And though i am not a Bieber fan, i imagined that what if Micahel Jackson had done this for me. I can understand what she feels, and i would have cried tooooo. I miss Michael every day — fan girl forever. But this video really raised my spirits. I am sure you will find it cute too…see the whole video!! It’s cute, esp when he makes her sit on his lap. awwww
Now, i am totally not a fan of electronica, but this one has me hooked. It makes me want to dance and that’s never a bad thing.
Yes, they can be. I know many of you are shaking your heads emphatically and saying nooooooooooooooo. But they can be. Full stop. Even though pop culture would have you believe it never happens. Let’s take our favourite group of friends. Monica had a crush on Joey, and rachel had a crush on joey, and joey had a crush on Rachel, and Chandler had a crush on rachel — should i go on? Not platonic at all. You start off as friends, and then one fine day realise that you were in love with your best friends. That’s just stupid, right? It was easier when we ere in school right? It’s the time when you aren’t influenced by all that is around you. And so, friends are friends — boys or girls. I am sure teens today don’t have that luxury, thanks to Gossip Girl, where everyone sleeps with everyone and they are still friends. A NYT piece i read says that Pop culture enforces that notion again and again, and i totally agree. As the author says, “We have trouble, in our culture, with any love that isn’t based on sex or blood. We understand romantic relationships, and we understand family, and that’s about all we seem to understand.”
Another writer, as he spoke about writing a book with plutonic friends in it said (on The Fictorian Era), said, “Platonic relationships are true partnerships. In fiction, romantic couples are constantly cheating on each other, breaking up, and getting back together. They’re famously inconstant. But when men and women leave romance out of the picture? Well, that’s kismet.”
I don’t what it is. I have also found myself constantly hoping that they two friends on TV just stop the drama and kiss each other. But i also enjoy the fact that they really can’t be with each other — it adds that element of watchability — as you keep hoping they would get together. Didn’t that get us by the later half of X Files, where the will they, won’t they factor of Scully and Moulder’s relationship was the most interesting. Harry Potter has Hermoine and Harry, which i feel is a pretty good example. And maybe Juhgead and Betty. Ya, i know we are scraping at the bottom of the barrel. But I couldn’t find many more. Castle loves the hot Beckett, Julianne falls in love with her best friend, every show or movie deals with it the same freaking way. It was even harder thinking of literature with true plutonic friends.
But they do exist. i have a few platonic friends, and It’s the most fun to talk, spend time with them. Is it easier for me as I am already in love with somebody, and also because my friends don’t see me in that light? Maybe, but it’s also because I don’t really see them as “boys” or “girls”. I see them as people i can talk about anything under the sky, and that’s rare to find. Tell me about your plutonic relationships, won’t you?
This song was one I had always imagined i would sing on stage. It’s sad yet romantic, and everyone i know has related to it at one point in time. It’s a classic this one.
(A short story/prose/mad fictional rambling inspired by a conversation about how our bodies betray us i had with Nishita Jha…. The mystery stays unsolved, my friend)
It was hard to say what I liked in a man. Did I just like good looking ones? No, not really, because there wasn’t any guarantee they would like me. So you could like them but not depend on them too much. Did I like funny guys? Ya, maybe, but not the ones who cracked joke after joke like a stand up comic. No, those guys are fun only for a night on a stage – not every night. Did I like a guy who respected me, treated me right, bought a lot of gifts? Maybe, but that habit would wane with time. I didn’t know who I liked, I just liked them. It was like my body, my mind, my soul, just came together to instantly record an attraction. It could never be helped.
But you know that moment when you see someone, and you know you could like them. I had seen him first through the gaps left by bodies in a crowded club. He looked sweet, childish even. Maybe it was the way his body leaned over the bar, in that slightly erotic yet casual way. Maybe it was the way his fingers touched the waist of the girl he was with – lightly but with assurance. Maybe it was just the way he looked through me at first and then at me. And for a moment it was like the skies parted and a voice said, “Oh there you are. I have been waiting for you.” But obviously, that didn’t happen. Though it felt like it could have. The next second, the moment had passed. There was too much noise, and too many people. I had even forgotten the way he looked.
The next time I saw him, I tried to memorise how he looked just so I could fantasise about him as I slept that night. Have you ever done that – gone to sleep thinking what would a perfect day look like? I do. I think it all out. All the men I had ever liked features in it and they are all so in lust with me. This was a sign of a bigger problem. But I stood at his side as we pretended not to notice that our elbows touched ever so slightly. I thought his nose needed a dent in it though – like Daniel Craig’s, just to give it some personality. But the rest of his face seemed quite perfect – perfect to kiss, perfect to just touch whenever I wanted to. But then we moved and it was all over again, though I had felt the warmth on my elbow for a while. But that night as I tried to picture him, it just didn’t fall into place. I kept seeing Daniel Craig.
The third time I saw him, I knew we both needed to see each other. We didn’t need to touch, or even talk – just watch a bit. We just didn’t want each other to know that we were watching. Or did we? I was trying to ignore him, but everything seemed to scream, “you need to look at him now”. I kept my eyes glued in the opposite direction, but from that tiny, itsy, bitsy corner of my eye, I could see him — looking away too. Was he fake looking away like I was fake looking away? Or was he really looking away? I thought to myself, “should I stare at him till he looks my way, and then see what he does.” What if he grimaced? But then he could just stare back. Did I want him to catch me looking at him, and did he want me to catch him looking at me? Oh no, he didn’t. Why else would he look away so fast, that I thought I imagined it all.
It was time to take the bull by its horns. Let’s just have a look, why can’t we? I turned slowly, making sure I didn’t make any sudden movements that scared him off. He was already looking at me, with his body positioned in such a way that even if he tried, he couldn’t help but throw me a glance. It was time. That second your eyes meet, and it sort of decides everything that will happen ever after, had arrived. This was it. We saw each other. And then, I looked away. I bit my lip, “Why the fuck did I do that.” I looked back but he was long gone. I suddenly remembered being 16, and feeling my heart tighten when I heard the guy I loved had asked someone else out. That morning, as I bunked school and wept to My Heart Will Go On on repeat, my heart had literally ached. It felt like it would explode. It almost felt the same. But then I returned to reality. As I looked away again, I knew, I never wanted to see him ever again.
Was this the end of our imagined affair? And though I think I know he felt the way same way I did, did he actually? Or did I imagine it like my nightly dreams? Yes, our eyes had danced a strange dance, and our bodies had exhibited signs of extreme lack of control, but was it even real? Nobody knew, but our bodies. If only our bodies could speak.
Ps. How I am ever going to write romance if I keep writing such melancholic crap :p. Don’t answer that.
Today I woke up and thought of how I first got on to liking music. Like many things, this too I owe to my parents. Other than giving me only books as gifts, my mom made sure I saw the classics on film. One of my first gifts, a video tape of Sound of Music, became my first introduction to music. I sang along and knew all the songs by heart. So today, here is My favorite Things, which i sang as part of school functions too often to even count. Raindrops and roses, whiskers and kittens. 🙂 awwww such perfection. This is the version when the kids sing it as they mull over why Maria left.
And then as I totally loved Julie Andrews, there was Merry Poppins to obsess over. Just a spoonful of sugar. OMG. Lovely
and of course, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
It’s gonne be a great day 🙂
Aaron Sorkin’s Newsroom has given me a brand new and hot girl crush. Olivia Munn, who plays Sloan Sabbith, the resident economic whiz and socially awkward, completely nerdy and gorgeous news reporter and presenter, is a treat to watch. Everything is said in a matter of fact tone, she has no clue how attractive she really is, and her romantic overtures to a colleague are amateurish, childish and so, so adorable. So when Salon.com called her The Newsroom’s “bright spot”, I couldn’t have agreed more. The show, which I think is a bit too preachy and too “trying to be smart”, is at many times, watchable thanks to Munn’s spaced out characterization of Sloan. Vulture.com said that Munn and Sloan both deserve a better show to flaunt their charm, but I disagree, maybe because I am so selfish. I want her on the show, I need her on that show – till she gets her own. Let’s all hope.