Why people should recommend me for following on Twitter…

Last Friday I was merely joking when I declared on Twitter that I will type down a blog on the above title. A guy (@collidingatoms) recommended me for following just because I declared the future existence of  this blog. I was trapped in my own net and hence this blog. Grrr! Grrr! Grrr!

The reasons why people should recommend me for following on twitter is as follows…

1. I don’t tweet the popular creatures on twitter pleading to follow me just because I want to send a DM(Direct Message)
2. I reply to every goddamn person who tweets me….ummm….well almost everyone(except BritneyBots, and, other perverts )
3. I crack jokes on Rahul Mahajan. Anyone who is game with it, is most welcome to join me.
4. I made(with a hell lot of help from Nabeel @softykid) Arnab Goswami and Rakhi Sawant marry. Form the weirdest family on earth and include Sambhavna Seth in it. Touch my feet. I know I am great.
5. I publicly on Twitter claimed to crack the skull of Udhav Thackeray and then receive a handful of threat tweets. And no…I still don’t care.
6. I made @thecomicproject fall from his chair(laughing….I didn’t kick his chair)

N.B. I even tweet when I have all my bones fractured. Dedication, dudes and dudettes! Learn…learn.

Miss “Misfit”

It was the morning of Saraswati Puja. I am that miserable eldest daughter who has to arrange for everything required for the puja, though she is confused about her theological status.Sigh!

Next I had to go through the industrious task of wearing that thousand yards of cloth; which seems unending but is a compulsory attire for every female being in my family on that particular day. Thank god I don’t have pets of the fairer sex(the one I had has fled, God gave her enlightenment, thank you God). I then went out with some friends and clumsy me, tripped four times. Books falling from the shelf on my head and making earthquakes is completely another facade of my clumsiness, but tripping in front of a crowd and that too four damn times, isn’t that funny!
Okay, it is.

By this time I had enough of the girl in me flaunted and was going itchy for a haircut.

Me: Haircut! Haircut! Haircut!

Mom: No! No! No! Haircut on such an auspicious day! You can’t be my daughter!

Me(mumbling): I didn’t claim I am. (Thank god it went unnoticed! I would have been chopped into pieces otherwise!)

When I came back home my hair was as short as a girl’s hair can be. Mother looked at me. Gulped down a lump the size of an orange and vowed not to ever speak to me.

N.B. Next morning we conversed as usual and she even complimented my hair. God Made the Earth and God made my mom!

Time to disclaim

Post Karan Johar’s Wake Up Sid-Raj Thackeray disclaimer fiasco it’s now in vogue for everyone in every field to pose a disclaimer. Needless to say, I am Jack of all trade, and master of none(maybe one or two perhaps? no?).Thus here I am to put forward some disclaimers of my own.

1)14years of imprisonment will be thrust upon anyone who types my name as Ip”sh”ita. I am saying this the last time. It is Ip”s”ita. And another 21years of confinement if it is pronounced as Ip”s”ita. Pronunciation is Ip”sh”ita. I have confused you enough so let’s rest it here.

2)Don’t ask my career plans. Penalty: Lifetime imprisonment at the Guantanamo Bay. Watch “Harold and Kumar goes to Guantanamo Bay” movie to get a preconceived impression of the well, umm, tortured captivity. Not torture actually. Its more.

3)My relationship status is single, and not ready to mingle. Penalty: You get to have a seat at the largest Cactus at the Sahara. Their special feature-pronounced phylloclades

P.S. Sorry for a late-post, and after this post you would surely want me to be late in my posts.

Officially an L for Loser

Until and unless this hideous leech is officially kicked out from my life I will not breathe air.(Do not question my respiratory system )
The vampire’s name is EXAMINATION.
This particular species of highly ultra-scopic visibility is a prudent, venomous, parasitic being.
SYMPTOMS:Insomnia; amnesia; phobia of alarm-clocks, pencil, pen, and the forefathers or the grandchildren of the papyrus.
REMEDIES:Horlicks may assure you to make taller,stronger and sharper but I haven’t discovered any such elixir as yet.

Examinations are my emotion-churning-contraptions because otherwise I am fallow in that arena.

I see a pack of oiled haired, plait made girls(read clones) discussing the probability of a particular question coming in the exam to be starting in 5minutes. I join them. I am late. I ask them about their preparation. They say they will fail in this exam and lift their arms in unison to show their raised epidermal hair-follicles. I am ecstatic about the present situation as me and the girls(clones)are all facing the same crisis and dance my way(at least try to) to the alloted classroom. After the epic struggle I come out and see gleeful faces discussing how excellent the paper was. I jeer. I grrrrr(which is a habit now). I say nothing. I mutter LIARS.
This is the only time when I show my latent pseudo-ism with flamboyance. Obviously I don’t study. I don’t like to study. So I bird-watch. I play with pebbles. I stare at the flickering motion of leaves responding to stimuli. I intently observe the dust particles visible under sunlight.
I am not a television maniac. But my affinity for T.V. brims over at this particular time.
The frequency of my yawning is directly proportional to the number I words I try to mug.
I indulge into nocturnal trysts the previous night of the exam just to save my butt the following day.
In short….me is an L for Loser

P.S. I joined the girls’ group does not indicate that I oil my hair and make plaits. In fact I don’t have hair enough to make plaits and I am in a long distance relationship with this lubricating thingy.

Decode her

She ran for twelve suns
Her comrades were dwellers of that sugar coated marathon-antagonism.
Awareness of the truth unseen betrayed her.
Betrayed her to the very lees.
They all ran
One sun, two suns, three suns.
The Frails had a topple.
She continued with rest.
She was ahead of them all
But they considered evaluation with the “noticed”.
She never looked back!
When one day the twelfth sun arrived she saw none behind.
She was the crown of the apex.
She looked down to see her comrades staring up at her in disillusionment.
Rage scorched their face ash-black.
Rage gave her the agonizing blisters of seclusion.
She had no option but to wipe her blisters with the ice of the lofty crest.
She threw some ice to her comrades below.
Their intense fire turned the ice into steam.
Mediator water refused to materialize and become their medicine.

P.S. Readers are welcome to interpret this post anyway possible…no restrictions.

She is the mom

She petrifies me everytime she calls me from her workplace. I just opened my computer when this lady called my mom called inquiring about my whereabouts ! I plainly lied that I am not on the net…as usual she caught my mendacious declaration and threatened to sue me when she comes back. Now if you think that I am not scared of my mother then you are a prejudiced beast who knows nothing of who I am. I am damn afraid of her or maybe her capricious impact on me.

Yesterday another shock came my way when I was studying or was at least trying to do so when I saw her checking out my blogposts! Holy shit! I was chanting every God’s name which came to my mind and was sweating like an obese odd-ball chasing a runaway burglar. I wanted to hide under the bed and make a permanent settlement there(you will know why if you have read all my earlier posts). She said nothing. When I was ultimately going to pursue my long awaited siesta when abruptly she just left a blank expression for her thought “I am not that evil you know.”
I felt bad. I seriously did. Because for the first time in my life I had nothing to say. I am sorry,it was not at all intentional:I hope you are reading it if you have opened this site again mother.

And then again I have the biggest fights in the universe with this woman alone. We stop talking for days and then again chat for hours as if she is my long lost superlative comrade!

I still remember the days(15years ago from now) when she used to clean my excreta whenever I used to be diarrhea-struck!
I still remember that day when she fought with my dad for slapping me hard and good lord…that was much more petrifying than a WWE boxing show!
I remember each and everything if you by any chance think I have forgotten them all.
I cannot push myself to the edge of being so melodramatic so as to say P.S. I Love You but I can always say…Lady, you believe it or not I do care.

10 Reasons for which I should be kicked out of my community

Folks I am extremely sorry that I was under the invisibility cloak for quite sometime and did not post even a single blog-post. Reasons being, I was drenched in the festive mania and then of course my adventure-struck trip…but ever since I came back I never had that blogging mood. Today I feel is an auspicious day, this hour an auspicious time(someone crack the coconut) that finally and yes finally I have opened this site and gathered myself to BLOG.

No, the topic does not suggest that I brag about my prolonged absence. So here my harebrained engine goes again.

10 REASONS WHY MY VERY OWN BONG COMMUNITY SHOULD DISOWN ME!

1. FOOD: Neither do I drool over rosogollas(rasgullas) nor am I an ardent fan of sea-food. I can wing off an entire lifetime being a vegetarian or surviving on chicken and eggs alone. This is just another excuse for my mother to get gross on me. And she should be of course. Reason enough for any other bong mother to disinherit her daughter from her will.
2. THE NIGHTINGALE FACTOR: I cannot sing. I will not say more.
3. MY HAIRSTYLE: I have short hair. An insult to the generations of bong women who were all bearers of asphalt-black mane hanging down their waist or even longer!
4. FILM FACTOR: I do not groove to the uber-melodious bengali tunes rocking the puja pandals. They agonize me and give me daily day-mares and night-mares. Ghastly and ghostly.
5. MY FUTURE: I had an entire episode of “freedom-struggle” with my parents about my choice of career. No engineer or doctor thingy for me. I will puke any moment.
6. SOCIAL PAPARAZZI: I am a big NO NO for this nonsense. I cannot display my teeth for toothpaste ads in every happy and gay(pervs shut up!) family photograph.
7. PSEUDO-ISM: I cannot pretend to bird-watch and gape at the expanded blue sky. I cannot pen down marvelous poetry with ink pen. Yes, that is it.
8. SARCASM: I am lost when my massively large group of bong friends ooze out dialogues so sarcastically bitter that you would probably become suicidal by the time they end.
9. TEA: I do not drink it morning-evening. I do not drink it ever. That reminds me I am not even fond of caffeine. Coffee disgusts me as much as tea.
10. ASTHMA: When climbing up steep mountains or hills I do not stick my tongue out and gasp for air and rummage my bag for the inhaler.

That is it folks, 10 reasons are less for me but let it rest now. Before my butt is officially kicked out of the bong community I will throw an online party. My followers here are invited. And yes, for your information I can count from 1-10.

P.S. I have no grudges against the bongs. They are lovely people and I hope they would delay the decision of outcasting me as long as possible. With good and blatant hopes, I will blog again.

Aura of Non-Chalance

I am waiting for my antibodies to form a battalion and then strike against my virals. Those miniscule, microscopic “living” beings are not bothered about me? Now is that done? Certainly not. I promise you that I will keep you and nurture you in my system as long as you dolts want…but firstly eradicate this terrible thing called flu from my body! And no, I don’t have swine flu. Swines do not get swine flu. Some oddball even tweeted me this – @Ipsita_Shome swine flu? sorry i know everyone is asking you this question !!!!!!

My trip to the picturesque mountains and snow covered peaks has only a week left. If I do not recover by then, don’t think I will forgive you antibodies :@
Awhile ago I was sneezing as frequently as a nerd in competition to an even bigger nerd..but now, hell yes now, the sneeze doesn’t come out, only it’s existence among the many side effects of my flu exists. That is, when I have a heart-filled yearning to sneeze, it just doesn’t happen and results me in teary eyes.

Irritated you enough with my immortal maladies. Sorry about that.

Some latest gigs that overwhelmed me-

* Yesterday Rio de Janeiro won the Olympics 2016 rights over Madrid. Fascinating news? Well yes. Not for me though. I was more fascinated by Paulo Coelho’s jumping, limping, dance of frenzy when Rio de Janeiro was declared the winner. Holy cow! Look at him…hardly 5ft in height, incredibly thin and a Ramkrishna like smile(somewhat like laughing Buddha too). I wondered, does he have a knee-insurance?
* Raj Thackeray literally slaughtered the release of Wake up Sid on friday morning as Mumbai was called Bombayrepeatedly in the film…A worried Karan Johar hurried to Thackeray’s mansion for an apology and promised a disclaimer. Wait. Hold on. Thackeray’s daughter studies in “Bombay” Scottish School. I will write nothing on this topic after this. Full stop.
* Nehru once said,”Hindi-Chini bhai bhai”(or behen-behen…whatever.) Look at those masquerades. In the skirmish between Pakistan and India over Kashmir, the Chinis are taking over parts of Kashmir it seems. Thwart their face as many times as they bow before you for greeting you.
* A Japanese airline, asked its passengers to pee before boarding so that a five-tonne reduction in carbon emission occurs. Just Imagine!

Inventory of the Antics

Durga Puja around the corner. People babbling about it. I am sulking about not getting enough pocket money. I offered to do some chores in exchange of those Gandhi printed notes, but my diabetes-sweet mother flatly refused. Grrrrrrrr! Grrrrrrrrr! Grrrrrrrr! I know I am sounding like to-be-crumbled truck engine.

Another point, why do I know everything? There should be a relative amount of ambiguity to make life “interesting”. And mine’s very insipid here.

Okay…now coming to the point, I went shopping this Saturday(my only instance of profit in the last few decades-though I am not even nearly two decades old!) and saw amusing “Ripley’s Believe it or Not” moments. My sister engaged herself into a dreadful fistfight with a boy of her age approximately but double her size. I don’t know how but she won…and got an ice-cream gift from me for being so chivalrous and making me laugh for quite a time-period!

Then came my mother whose antics will make into an entire book. A girl was eyeing an intricately gorgeous looking kurta when my mother jumped from nowhere like superman(woman) and grabbed the dress from the hanger. I was gaping in amazement. But hold on, then she started rebuking me for not being a pro at getting things. Her exact words were, “what would have happened if that girl(slightly pointing at the girl) took the dress?”. My exact words, ” What would have happened?” She let out a bull-roar( I am not calling you bull mom) and went to the paying-counter. And then on our way back replied to my question in a meandering manner. “This is the impact you people(don’t know who else falls into the ‘you’ zone) get due to sitting in front of the computer for prolonged hours.” I was like, “what?” She turned her face away and refused to speak to me any further.

Lastly, though embarrassing and I am this shameless chick, I am not at the least gone red in admitting the fact that I was nearly going to break my bones by falling off an escalator. My mother went red, father was busy rescuing me and sister chuckling away to her heart’s content. People around me staring at me wide-eyed and giving what-a-villager look. I wanted to hurry away from the spot but fell down again. Damn the escalators…it was never easy with them.

Inventory of my Pensive

Morning newspaper is a compulsion for me like the rheumatism struck pasty-haired folks. I am a rather lackluster of a person, really. But then I am in love with myself, so hell with what others think. Though I don’t actually know what others think. I rely on my preconceived notions of the person’s conduct or my exceedingly weird technique of face-reading. But myself being a complete fool in all this juvenile activity I rather type down my own thoughts, the ones which kept me on hold for more than 5 minutes(myself being a drifted minded lass.)

My throat is aching as if I am a-to-be-slaughtered-bakri whose throat is being sliced with the most blunt of knives and the butcher is ruthless enough to let me suffer[that ruthless butcher is you God...I hate you for such unbearable agony ]. I expended more than half an hour worrying about it….a big Ouch to my precious time!

An article in the newspaper read that NDA wants the 34th National Games to be held in October or November only after the elections, because they wouldn’t TOLERATE the delay of something GRAVE as elections which is a subject of national significance. I jeered over the NDA’s sudden concern over national issues. I literally had an extempo on the phone about this topic with a friend who is one of those intellectual beings whom I worship from the bottom of my heart. Typing down as much as I remember of the so-called extempo. ” Drown these cult politicians into a chullu bhar paani….you know what, when YSR Reddy breathed his last it was definitely a subject of national mourning as it is really thorny to get a politician and leader of his caliber. But what is with people and their jinxed emotions? AP politics is not my subject of expertise but still is it really intelligent of the AP people to put up junior Reddy into the gold plated chair? Do we not need to invest a little of our grey cells when it comes to such a responsible post and not indulge in fervor and sentiment. What were the NDA dolts(I love Suhel sir for this word) doing when people swam into pools of thoughtlessness and chose bosom over brains? My abhorrence towards these gratuitous blokes is on the verge of flood I say!” Well this was precisely my take on the Kings of Fools[I use plural as they are not just one]

And then, my thinking machine engaged in Locus for more than five minutes….actually it was 2hrs(the time period for which my tutor teaches me). I put the handsome end of my pen on my forehead and posed in a Newton-ish manner while my tutor gaped at me as if I will pen down something as revolutionary as Principia Mathematica any moment. I could not prevent myself from leaking out a giggle