A Bundle Of Contradictions

Hi there. 
I see no purpose in beginning this letter with niceties because I know what you're going to say: 
You're going to begin by saying how nobody in your family understands you. Then, you're going to move onto your friends and moan about how they don't "get you needs". After which, you're going to end with a note that you have no real friends and you're just a poor, poor lonely soul. 
But, my darling friend, have you ever bothered to consider that you might be the problem? 
Oh, now don't start with the theatrics and hear me out, will you? 
I like to believe that there are two types of lonely people - lonely people by circumstances and lonely people by their own behaviour and outlook. 
Lonely people by circumstances are those who try hard to mingle with others but are scornfully ignored. 
Lonely people by their own behaviour, on the other hand, are those who have everything - a rock solid family, an amazing group of friends and are materialist…

It is late in the night. You’re pacing across the room, anxiously biting your nails and desperately trying to grasp information from your books that you hadn’t touched since the day they had been freshly bought.
As you scan your textbooks and highlight every single thing (yes, including the full-stop), you feel dizzy. You feel like somebody has lifted your chin up, parted your lips and is force-feeding you until you are overstuffed and ready to throw up.
Then finally, as the clock strikes three (the time which a lot of horror movies state is the perfect time for all the ghosts and all things spooky to arrive), you slam your book shut and yawn. 
You walk to your bathroom and see your reflection – you look exactly like all the ghosts that our beloved horror movies talk about. Your hair’s messed up and filled with dirt, your eyes are droopy and laced with dark-circles and your entire body is aching, as if you have been waging a really taxing war. 
Then again, final exams are wars. You h…

Statutory Warning Before I Commence With This Post:

This post is purely about my rambles. It might be confusing and a hell lot weird. But I hope you are able to make sense out of it. If you aren't, feel free to comment! :) 
Do I feel like a hypocrite right now to give you all gyaan/vishesh tippani/messy rant about maturity, yet again? 
Yes, yes I do. 
Because let's face it. In a lot of ways, I happen to be a highly immature individual. 
Let's enumerate, shall we?  I am immature because I end up blurting a lot of stupid things in front of a lot of people. It's true! I have no FILTER between my idiotic mouth and my stupid brain.
I am immature because I tend to nag people like banshees when they don't reply to my messages or don't respond to what I have to say.

(I do have a justified reason for that: I'm a busy human being too. Me messaging you isn't because I'm totally free in life. It's because I'm interested to talk to you. It's because I ta…

Let me be honest with you.
I wasn’t always the person I am now.
I wasn’t the girl with the sardonic, sceptical sense of humour. I wasn’t always the girl who took a long time to decide who was right and who was wrong. I wasn’t always the outspoken “I-don’t-like-the-way-you’re-treating-me-and-I-think-we-should-discuss-as-to-what’s-going-on” character either. I wasn’t a girl who always chose her friends carefully because she feared that some of them might only like her for getting their profits and not because they enjoyed her company. 
I was someone who was oh-so-nice.
Correction: I was someone who was oh-so-naïve.
***
It happens, you know.
The will to be a part of the IT crowd, the desire to be loved and the desire to be popular – who wouldn’t want anything like that?
If anyone’s reading this, don’t you ever deny the fact you ever had the urge, the desire, the yearning to be something more than ‘ordinary’.
It happens to everyone! Every single person in this world has a wild desire to be…

This is basically what happens when I study for a test next day. 
Pen? Check.

Sharpened pencil? Check. 
Eraser? Check. 
Fresh notebook? Check. 
Text book? Check. 
Highlighter? Wait... I didn't get my highlighter, so I'd better get it now. 
I get up from the bed (which also happens to be my comfy study table) and jog to the living room. My mother is on the iPad and my grandmother's seated beside her, chattering about the greenery and beauty of her village. 
I stop midway, realizing that I haven't checked my Facebook notifications. Nor have I looked at my WhatsApp messages. 
I take my phone from the coffee table and tap on the green WhatsApp sign. Instantaneously, all the messages appear. Some random messages in some random groups which don't concern me... some messages from classmates reminding me about what I'm supposed to bring to class... some messages from besties about how cute my dp is... some messages from guy buds about guy stuff... 
I scroll down my con…

"A woman should not laugh loudly in front of all the world and should preserve her decency at all times."  When this statement was made by a Turkish politician, it sparked outrage everywhere, especially on the internet.

Well, who wouldn't be appalled? 
So far, we women are expected to wear clothes fully covering our body, or else we would be raped/molested by men. We're given lesser-quality education as we're considered "simple-minded". We're not allowed to lead, because we're weak and soft-spoken? 
Oh yes. we've grown up listening to highly irksome comments like, "Girls are weak. They have it easy. What are they supposed to do, anyway? Study for a few years, get married, produce kids, rear them and then die." 
And now, according to this highly intelligent politician, we're not supposed to laugh. 
Let's add that to the list of all the things we women can't do, eh? 
I cannot fathom why the hell it is us women who're …

Definition of faux-tographers: Those people who own expensive cameras, click stupid photos and after editing their pictures a lot, they start showcasing their "talent" on social networking sites.

Once upon a time, back when my parents were mere kids (and that's a very long time ago, mind you!) photography was considered as an art, a rare talent only a few had. If you look at the photos back then, you'd be amazed by the amount of emotional depth, the beauty within each shot. You'd think, Wow! This is so awesome! 

Now-a-days, a lot of people have transformed into photographers that I've lost count. A lot of my friends have created albums on Facebook and titled them as - "My Clicks" or "My Photography Skills." 
Yeah, even I had a Facebook album infested with photographs, but I didn't start calling myself a "photographer" just because I got a DSLR camera! 
(Actually, I don't have a DSLR camera. My miserly dad would never buy…

As the title so blatantly suggests, I hate Math.

I don't exactly recollect the time when I enjoyed spending time with those numbers. 
Well, actually I can. I was really good at Math till the seventh grade. When I was in sixth grade, I got hundred out of hundred marks in Math. 
No, I'm not bragging or exaggerating. I can show you my freaking report card if you like. 
Anyhow. Back to the main issue. 
I started hating Math since ninth grade, I think? Partly because I had to understand almost every single thing on my own (as my teacher wasn't that great) and I became all the more discouraged when I got the most pathetic grades in the universe. 
Things became slightly better in the tenth and eleventh grade. 
But that doesn't mean that I have (again) fallen in love with Math. 
Let's weigh the pros and cons of mathematics, shall we? 
Pros:  Number One: It teaches you to solve problems.  Number Two: It makes you more logical.  Number Three: If you do get it, you score real…

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it?
What did I do on this beautiful day? Did I celebrate this day with my non-existent lover? Did I go on double-dates, by any chance?
Hmm… here was how my Valentine’s Day went:
I woke up. I breathed in oxygen and let out carbon dioxide to help the plants in the photosynthesis process. I went to my school. I conversed with people other than my non-existent boyfriend. I went back home. I breathed in more oxygen and let out more carbon dioxide out of my nostrils.
Yes, my day was very eventful, wasn’t it?
Honestly speaking, I don’t like the concept of singling out one day out of three-sixty-five day as a dedication to love. What’s so great about fourteenth February, honestly? Why is everything so red? Why are there stupid hearts, stupid roses and stupid couples everywhere?
And those  who don't have 'valentines' spent the entire day moping about, thinking that they're losers 'cause they didn't find someone to spend Valentine'…

Basically, after Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger got together (FINALLY!), the entire Harry Potter fandom was rejoicing. Who wouldn't? After bickering about practically every single thing, they finally got married.

However, recently, J.K. Rowling said that she regrets Ron-Hermione romance and stated that Harry Potter would've been better for Hermione. She also said that Ron and Hermione would have needed  "marriage counselling".

This was a serious blow for Romione shippers. A lot of them were really, really upset about it. Some of them thought that J.K. Rowling was doing this for attention (Oh, I am serious! Some people's minds are filled with shit!). Some of them wrote "strong letters" regarding this sudden statement.

However, Harmony shippers were really happy about it.

And there are those in between - like myself - who are okay with both the ships.

Now wait a minute... what are 'ships' in the first place? A 'ship' is a shortened term…

This is a letter to all the people who are more or less interested in the zits popping on my oh-so-amazing face.

Dear Everyone Who's Obsessed With My Zits,

I don't mean to hurt anyone in any way but I don't like it when people suggest various creams, dermatologists for my face.

(In case anyone doesn't know, I have acne - but then again, I'm a teen! I'm supposed to be used to it!).

Once in every few days, someone comes up and says, "Oh dear, look at your face! All these zits... was it an allergic reaction or something? I know this fine XYZ doctor who will make your face clear again."

How I want to react when people tell me this:



How I do react when people tell me this:


Frankly, I fail to understand why people really care about my zits when they could, you know, focus on more vital stuff. Such as, all the malnourished kids in the hidden pockets of the world, terrorism - those issues need more attention.

It won't be the end of this world if another e…