Colours

When black fades to grey
And white to that faint shade of yellow
It's time to buy new Court clothes
You dirty fellow.

PP! After such a long time!

Inebriation and nonsense reflection.

The last few days for me have been one of reflection. Quiet reflection. Reflection of the days gone by, the days to come and more importantly of the person that I think I am.

It all unfortunately started with a slightly (ok, very) inebriated night, where I am afraid I started to talk a little more than I would have liked about myself and my family around people I hardly know. I am not one of those people who consciously avoids talking about themselves or their personal lives. In fact as Oswald will testify, I abhor it that people keep things to themselves- especially when it eats them up inside.

However, lately, I have found to my surprise, I am exactly that sort of person. When I look at the people around me, I am always amazed at how much I know of people and their backgrounds and how little they know of me.  What does that mean for me and my friends? Nothing much I guess. It's not like I won't tell, if I'm asked. It's just that I won't tell, unless I am asked. Does that make me a private person? In a way, I guess it does.

But, what I don't like about being this way is:

1. I can never tell people when I am really annoyed about something. (No. Looks of annoyance that flit across face routinely are only the surface). I usually need an outlet, and I think mine unfortunately is snapping about something else completely irrelevant, to get myself to cry and let it all out.

2. I never really know what's bugging me. It's just something that keeps accumulating over a period, till I either implode or explode (more likely of the two).

3. When I need to think about something, I need to be left alone, but know that someone is around in case I need to talk (rare though that may be).

What does all this mean? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then why I am I even typing this out. Who knows, and whokhyeres.

Btw, random. Private person is another PP. Haha.

.

.

.

Crazy Kooks.

PP Jr.

How depressing it is to write yet another PP. I have noticed that this only happens when I have been sleepy, can't sleep, try to sleep, fail and then let boredom take its course.

Anyway, random name related facts that I have been thinking about since forever:

1. I want to be rechristened Rupert. I don't even like the name. I think it's ugly as shit. Not to mention I'm not a man. But everytime I'm bored, this is the only word that pops up in my head. "Rupert, Rupert, Rupert, Rupert, Rupert, Rupert...".

So on and so forth. (I need help.)

2. I think I want to torture my child (if I have one ever) and call it Abdullah Tiger Iyer. (Good one no?)

3. I have never found another Kruttika/ Krithika/ Krittika that I like.

4. I think most people's names are ugly. (Obviously not yours. The others.)

Tadaaaaaa (jr.).

PP. Yet another PP.

PP

I think I have lost the ability to write. I have spent the last 40 minutes staring at the computer wondering how to type what I want to type. Then I realising I can't say what I want to say- even though I want to say it- I delete the post and then I'm back to Square One.

Why am I typing this out then? Pointless post. PP. From today. I think I'll title it PP. Followed by PP Junior, PP the Third, so on and so forth.

Speaking of pointlessness, today in an attempt to make someone in a very dark mood laugh, I indulged in a little family sledging. Using funny sounding names. If you didn't know what they mean, they sound like words that could mean something else altogether. (See, I can't write anymore).

For instance, Sudakshina (pronounced Shoe-do-khina in foreign tongue) : When repeatedly mumbled in an annoyed tone/ screamed out loud with your hair flying loose and eyes wild, could sound like a Japanese curse. Say it with me people, "Shoedokhinaaaa!"
See?

Follow now a conversation at a restaurant, where three individuals discuss a bowl of soup. (An explanation as to tone, emotion and pronunciation shall follow).

---
1 to 2, 3: (tasting soup). "The soup is really rimli!"
2: "Is it? Not to worry. Just encashed my salary. I'll Bhattchage it"
3: (obviously much older in age than the young turks we just encountered) Buttchage? You're talking about your posterior at meal times! CHEE CHEE! Baadol baadol baadol baadol!!
-------

Key:

Rimli- Sounds watery.

Bhattcharge- Apparently another verion of the popular and Foreign tongue surname Bhattacharya. (to be pronounced as Bhatt- charge). Also sounds like some form of currency or credit card system.

Baadol- (Meaning cloud. Baadal). Say it over and over again, sounds like you're condemning something. Baadol baadol baadol baadol.

---------------


Tadaa.

PP. Have I mentioned this is a PP?