The beginning of an end. 8th Semester, be kind please! *puppy eyes*

So the ‘pochishe boishakh’ happens in the most non happening way for me. I see the people staying out of Kolkata missing and pining away in glory while I feel no lump. Maybe I would do the same a year from now.

Dariburo was never the favourite during school years of ‘kobita mukhostho’ and oral tests. I remember how the much loved ‘dui bighe jomi’ used to make me stammer. I loved the poem endlessly but that bit of ‘nomo nomo nomo shundori momo jononi bongobhumi’ was such a tongue twister! I have always believed that Sarat Chandra wrote way better stories than Rabindranath but the poems! Kobiguru literally is THE man!

Later came my years of gaaner class and struggling with the harmonium. Aunty never taught me to play “Amar o porano jaha chaay’ which once, during my good old days of dreaming, I thought I would get to hear and maybe sing as well. I loved the songs that I could play easily. I loved the Pujo porjaye-r songs that I found very Prem porja-ish. No, I am so not demeaning Dariburo and so not trying to confuse the non-bong readers, if any.

I have also had my days of shada phool on head and yellow saari and horrendous ‘Phule phule ghole dhole’ on stage and also singing performances when I went to the mike, stood silent, took my packet of mishit and happily strolled to old amma bari!

What did I do for Rabindra Jayanti? I edited files, ate and went printing binding in the sun, stood for quite some time, ate again, tried understanding codes and gave up, ate again, got terribly cursed by a random man begging down the road (which has made me VERY upset), met people, ate again, walked home happy, showed Maa the final year project knowing that I know nothing and she would still be amazed that I made that copied thing.

The post again following my trademark going nowhere trend. And since that has happened, let me just advise everyone to watch Apur Panchali! I am extremely amazed by the character played by Parno Mitra! I would have married that cute a woman any day! The way she cried and instructed the husband going away for a while, or the way she was mocked by the loving husband. I was so pleased and dreamy eyed. I so wish I was born a generation or two ago. I do feel old and way too old fashioned for my age at times. These days, quite a lot. The values, wants, actions, reactions and everything that is there to me has started to be so 19^th century that people are getting affected very badly. I could have done with people who happily bear me less during those centuries? K jane. The other side of the land with greenery is quite a deceptive concept.

Well, now that this post just going nowhere, I may also add that college is ending. Not that I was particularly fond of the place called Pailan, I did not hate it either. Minus the last semester which hardly happened, I had a lot of life experiences here. On 27^th, it all ends. I would be meeting some of the people off and on for sure. But that does not change the fact that nothing would be same. I won’t call this feeling nostalgia, I don’t even want time to stop because I have never liked the place that Pailan is, the management it had, the course I did there, but somewhere, deep down inside, I am not too happy that college is ending.

Did not read this far? Well I don’t care! I have semesters in 12 days and I am blank and still, jobless and all up for writing on and on and rant a lot. SO, I rant and write. I had and have a LOT to rant and rant and rant about. Ah another day again maybe :)

A movie called Apur Panchali released and the trailer at 2 states told me it had scenes from the trilogy. I am not too proud to admit that I have only watched and read Pather Panchali. Read, because it was a part of our class V syllabus and watched because I wanted how the book has been painted. Now, before watching Apur Panchali, I wanted to watch ‘Aparajito’ and ‘Apur Sansar’. I did not bother reading the books because the death of Durga had taken my interest away already with the first book.

So yesterday, when I was utterly bored, I started to watch Aparajito and paused and eventually got a little bored at the speed and closed VLC after about 20minutes. Also since I had not read the book, I was finding it difficult to concentrate.

The reason why I write this is because a small scene really made me think and over think. There was a scene when ‘Sharbojaya’ declares that there is milk for the husband as well in the ‘chhoto baati’ (small bowl). Now, everyone who knows about ‘Apu’ and ‘Durga’ are aware of their financial status. ‘Horihor’, the husband had happy eyes that he too, other than his ‘khoka’ (the son) will get milk every day. He enters the small kitchen, finds his bowl of milk and relishes it with a ‘bah’. All that was alright. Now, the catch. After he finishes his bowl, he goes to tap that his wife was using to wash the dishes. He takes the same water that was used for dish washing from the tap into his bowl, and drinks that water. Because? He wanted to waste not even the last bit of the milk that was his luxury food. And he was not one bit unhappy. Apu was the usual us though.

That is it. Ei gorome r lekha jabena. Interpret  and over think if you have the time and heart. 

‘Abandon the boat’

 The weatherman said,

‘There is a storm in the sea’

‘Take only what you need

 Let the useless things be’

- Abhishikta

ओ चाँदनिया तो बरसे फिर क्यों मेरे हाथ अँधेरे लगदे ने

I write this with ‘Mast Magan’ on loop!

What an amazing movie. Although a scene by scene copy from the book but, what a movie!
No, not an Oscar material. A lot of keblami, a lot of over acting and a LOT of good clothes! But I loved the movie.

I had started to think that I have attained a stage when I cannot like any movie anymore because honestly, from Gravity to Queen, I found everything okay-ish. And 2 states took my heart away.

Want to judge me on my taste and intellect? I give a flying duck.

Now, 3 scenes!

First, when Krish dashes inside the interview process of Ananya to propose for marriage. Second, when Krish’s mother claps out at the IIM convocation. Third, when Ananya burst out into happy tears at the Orange Mangalsutra ritual.

I am going to remember these 3 scenes for a long long time. And had it not been a hall with people I know by my side, I would have cried buckets. I don't have the heart to explain why. Let me keep it to myself for a change. But, THESE scenes!

It is always about priorities. Always. It is always about someone else. Always. It just depends on which part of the coin you play and which part of the coin you get. And how much effort or no effort things need. Perception. A dangerous thing. I don’t even know why I am writing this. I just am very happy and sad at the movie. KJo! *biggest hug*

P.S. I LOT of melodrama. Watch at you own risk.

Oh THIS song!

RANVIJAY! *_*

I have been continuously hearing how marriage spoils it all and how it is burden to the fairer sex (taking the term literally and not figuratively). Somewhere deep down inside I had started to consider the old self as old and too desperate to find someone for the bills and small and a burden. But then THESE!

                                                                                                                               

LOOK how happy and proud he looks!
Not even a subtle hint of regret.
Ah Ranvijay! The hero of my growing up years. I have never been in love with him but I have hardly admired any man more. He is smart, handsome, protective, athletic, down to earth, humble, kind, rides bikes like silk, dances like a lunatic, respects women, talks sense and I can just go on and on.

Not that I know him personally with his many flaws and I definitely don't think the ghar ki murgi is dal barabar but RANVIJAY! I don't know if age did that happy thing to him or the girl, the pictures just made me insanely happy and jealous of all the happiness that I see in them.

Good Luck!

If You'd Only Let It Be

There are times when you want to write and write more and you have so much to write about but you just can’t.
There are times when you just want to hold on and you have so much to hold on to but you just can’t.

This is one of THOSE times and no I am not inviting sympathy, empathy or pity from anyone in any form. Sometimes I do miss school. I am sure everyone does. We would just wake up on summer mornings hoping for the small mangoes to fall off everywhere on the grounds after a ‘Kalboishakhi’ night. Being in bus no 16, we were mostly the second set of bus students to reach school; the first were always bus no 14 people. Those silly little competitions of gathering the maximum number of mangoes and not gathering enough certainly was the ONLY disappointment I had in those times of fairytale living.

Yesterday I had a chitchat with Papu regarding all the possible problems of this age and he made one small comment, ‘Sukhe rakhi bhalo rakhi bhablei mushkil’, regarding a significant someone. Do we all think the same? DO we really feel the need and want to keep someone happy rather than our self selves? Maybe Yes. Maybe Not. Or maybe in the process of trying to make/keep someone happy we overdo things that make them just sad. Do we care? About anyone by ourselves? In this case?

One thing that I have noticed is that my post these days totally loses the track I start writing them on.

 Maa always told me being an obligation to someone is the worst thing that can ever happen to anyone. The worst thing? When you just know that you are. They invented a term worse than the worst? It is when you become a pain in the A place (YES I am too pretentious the B word) to someone you wanted to give the world to.

There are days when you just would want to run away. Although I found the much loved and critically acclaimed ‘Into the Wild’ the most depressing movie EVER! I would just live to do that once. Just to check if anyone at all cares enough. Other than Maa of course. And then I would just change how the movie ended, walk back alive through the pretty sunset to you if you like. Or not if you don’t. I did talk about obligations.

It was a mad hectic day and this post shows! When I become old, I would surely be embarrassed to even mention about my blog to my grandchildren, the possibility of which is again bleak. Bleh! Listen to Lobo instead 

এক যে আছে রাজা... তার ভারী দুখ

21st March! World Poetry Day!

So today is the International Poetry Day. I got to know about the existence of such a day after I logged into facebook today.

I used to think I am quite a Poetry Stud (I don't think something like that exists! Judge me again) at school before I got to know others, quite a reality check that. Then came other this' and thats.

Yesterday we had a small communication practice at the German class where we were asked to introduce ourselves using the 5-6 points given to us. The last point being hobby. And I had no idea what to say. So what exactly is my hobby? Watching tv? Sleeping? Reading? Chatting? Surfing net? Painting? WHAT? I mean, I do none of these with the passion that one needs to pursue ones hobby with. In fact, I do nothing ever. Useless? Aimless? Boring? Yes I am and you are not welcome if you are here to judge me.

I thought I would say watching the rain or something more vague, thinking or, dreaming. By the time my turn came, I said writing. I just knew the German of writing. Hence. Counter question from the teacher being, writing what? And Ma'am gave me the German of story and because I asked, Deutsch of poetry too.

 And since she did. And since I somehow still am extremely proud of all that I wrote, and since I have a condition called I Complex eating my head these days, and also since today is World Poetry Day, I post the last line of a poem I wrote in 2007! Those were the days when I used to weave my stories :')

Don't judge me. Or maybe, do what you feel like.

"...
Will you always hold my hand
Even if I fail (you) in life's game?
Will you remember all these promises
When things will not be the same?"

-14th of September 2007
12:20 am

Cloud Story

Once upon a time, not too long ago, there were two clouds. Since they had difficult cloud names and we are stupid kids, let’s call them, Cloud A and Cloud B.

So soon after being born as the most beautiful things ever, they were appreciated and loved by all. They together went for strolls all around the world. They were light and carefree. They looked at the world from far above and were deciding which way to channelize their lives.

‘I liked the green all around. It attracts me deeply’ said Cloud B with love. He had never seen a prettier site. Cloud A agreed to the wholeness and beauty of the green lands. Who would not want to complement such beauty? Cloud B said ‘so let’s start our journey back to the green parts of the earth and spend the rest of our lives with happy togetherness?’  Cloud A looked worried.

‘What is it mate?’ Cloud B enquired ‘Do you not want the beauty and the whole?’
‘ Indeed I do. But that greenery deserves rain. It will destroy me. Destroy me to rain’
‘That is what we are meant for aren’t we, A? Clouds break to rain and become one with the land. That is how it should be. That is how you must prepare yourself. And when you fall in love with the land, you would want to be destroyed to make her happy’
‘I disagree with you. I am meant for happiness. I am meant for great things. I will travel far and wide. Love the sand, love the dunes. Atleast they will not expect me to change myself to some other form. It hardly ever rains there.’
‘That is impossible my friend. You must accept the reality and enjoy the few days that you have to live. I am going to green lands, they call me with love. You go to your dunes. And expect to never break down. Adios old friend. Will meet as rains’
‘That is quite an impossibility B, Goodbye’

 So finally A arrived to the desert. It had been long forsaken and the amount of love and gratitude received from those sand dunes made Cloud A instantly fall in love. The desert would listen to his stories and tell him hers. They found peace in difference. They loved what they got. 

The cloud told her of his plans of travelling far and wide. Of leaving all that is there and exploring places that would not change his form. Like the desert which is happy without rains, and she pretended to understand. Deep down inside the desert knew she has a lot of work to do. How did she fall for someone who would not quench her thirst? The cloud will have to fall as rain. Somehow. Anyhow. The desert knew she was selfish and knew that the cloud was not.

Thus began the journey of manipulating A. The desert spoke of her greatness and love. How she has suffered and what she dreams. She has been thirsty for years and nobody has ever cared to ask why, and now that there is a source, she must not let him go. The chains of emotions she had worked and the cloud fell. The dreams and visions of A changed. The plans of travelling far and wide seemed unwise. 

‘Who would listen to my stories if I am all alone? And would I be happy to travel alone? I may have to submit to the fury of the sun someday. Why not sacrifice for my love.’ A thought. Suddenly all his plans of never changing his form vanished. For he, was in love.

 Cloud A smiled. He knew he had to do it. Change him and be the rain. And as far as the desert was concerned, she was too much in love with the cloud to let him go and way too much in love with herself to let herself suffer any more. So the cloud fell. In love. And this time, as rain.

Does this necessarily mean the rain loved the desert still? Does it necessarily mean the desert soaked the rain not? Well kids! Do you believe in happy ending? You know what to infer. Do you find solace in sadness? You know what to infer. And as far as I am concerned, I would really like to know what happens. Really.

Unless Of Course

Do you love that song still?
The one that took my heart away?
With which you assured
That you are here to stay.

Do you promise these days?
About crimson dawns and violet nights?
To those new faces
Who get to share my rights.

Do you plan to come back?
Hold my hand again?
While I pretend to be angry
Till you wash away my pain.

I am alive,
So to say.
Soon would wrap the tall black coat
And bluntly walk away.

Unless of course...

-Abhishikta

“Obhimaan” and “Nyaka” are the two words in Bengali that I have forever wanted to translate to English. So my dear non Bong blog visitor, if there is any, this post is not really meant for you.
So, Obhimaan and Nyaka. The two most difficult words to translate. And together, when they become ‘Nyaka Obhimann’, the result can cause the world to turn upside down. Your world ofcourse! And maybe a bit of my world. Maybe the whole of it. Or maybe not. Who knows?

ভেঙ্গে মোর ঘরের চাবি নিয়ে জাবি কে আমারে ....

My Ego Boost Right Here!

Ego? Boost? Who needs?
Me! Wait. Me? What rubbish!

Besides isn't this about this cute boy with retarded smile and suber cute sad smiley?

Do I not have a frog face for like a century now?

Am I not shit talking?

And we were talking about being best?

For the right person?

For any person?

Ah!
Lucky boy!
Lucky boy with the retarded smile and super cute sad smiley.

Lucky boy with this thin girl with brown hair and fair arms.

I need sleep?
I needed to shoo away?
You think?
For your good?

Just to prove?

Ah!

Let me be the end of your rainbow...

Jiski Ki Biwi Moti Uska Bhi Bada Naam Hain? :D

Today, for ‘Shibratri’, while the women go foodless and happy at the prospect of  good husbands and uhmmmm... well... good husbands indeed, I started my day looking at the flab of fat that has accumulated in the last three months of sitting at home! I did blame it at the white colour that I was wearing, as suggested by the self proclaimed awesomeness. Yes it indeed was the white colour. But the flab that walked before me was a very ugly sight. Imagine spending the rest of your life in Kurtis not by choice, but because everything else makes you look like a football, And with this vertical extension, definitely a football. Now if you have ever liked the game where men is shorts show their hot or not so hot legs, and run after a ball, I have a chance. See! There is so much to look forward in life. Life is wonderful. And so are these offers that they provide at food places of and on. So munch on the ‘healthier’ sub with the healthy cheese on it, which of course is made from milk! And milk makes us strong! Yes! And suddenly I am one of those school seniors who have become ‘oshobbher moto mota’ after school.  And it is not even funny anymore.

All That You Need To know In Life

1. Women are NEVER wrong
2. They never say sorry!

Now that you know it, live with it :D

To All The Girls I've Loved Before

I first heard this song on the radio on a show called “Between the sheets” during school days when I used to solve Maths sums late at night. And you thought I am not a good girl. Huh.

So when I first heard this I was like 15 and thought what a cool dude the man is. Went out and down all the girls and still had the audacity of accepting it all. Back in those times the secondary school, sweethearts I saw were impossible to be separated and we even planned how their weddings would be and breakup was the next impossible thing. I never had a proper ‘love’ and all my likes and oohs and aahs lasted for 2 days and then phussss. I wondered what is wrong with me. So I loved the song, it became my love anthem and I thought that yes it is absolutely okay to have random crush at so many of the silly boys because when I turn 50, I would have something like this to write about my life and eventually nail the Nobel or at least the Pulitzer. Judge me :D

Years rolled. 2014. Valentines Week. The rj of the show “Between the sheets” posted this on his wall:

“ 

Anil Srivatsa

February 14

To all the girls I've loved before.... who've travelled in and out my door... I am glad they came along, but I dedicate this day (and this song) to just one girl I love to the core. Happy valentine's day my love! — with Deepali Srivatsa.

“

I was very very happy to read that. I have always loved Valentine’s Day. All those who constantly defend their morkotness behind the age old every-day-is-valentines-day, are idiots. There are special days which must be celebrated. So going back to the topic, this song! I heard the song the first time after leaving school on the 14^th of February this year, after reading that status. This time I felt like it is a sad song. Not a song for the stud as I used to think back then. You can actually imagine the morose and lonely singer sitting on the rooftop with his guitar and a bottle of whiskey while he sings this, remembering and contemplating life. Because all the fun and variety of youth would finally find their own destinations and the restless bee would be left alone, in one of those dark corners, where he will have life experiences galore but not someone to tell those tales to. Men, accept it, you need us. Today and tomorrow. The SAME us! 

My college is about to end. 2010-2014. And suddenly, there are break ups everywhere. A recently heartbroken friend concluded that men need immense amount of time to mature and hence she should have known this would have been the final outcome of weaving dreams with a classmate. I get those what-would-you-know looks when I try justifying the sticking around and trying more policies. With time everything loses its charm and then you hunt to find new ones and end up gathering experience, love and good time from everyone. Who likes extra baggage? Says the hep and smart society, says this song.

 Really? What are we? Pigs?

And then there are nice gestures and people who celebrate their nth year of being together. Happily? Sadly? Matters? 

I can just speak for myself. After the initial lets-try-to-be-cool-and-stay-out-of-love years, I have become this sappy, melodramatic idiot from B grade Bollywood movies. There is nothing cool or awesome or modern or reassuring about that. I believe in love and commitment and long term and everything else that is a turn off. And that stays! And about this song, I still love it.

The first rain!

WHITE PINK RED

^_^

“Some things you don't have to promise. You just do.” 
― Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave

And since it is promise day, my favorite day of the Valentine's week (and yes I am quite fond of all the mush), I was wondering when was the last time I ever promised something, or kept it for that matter. NEVER.
I have been wanting people to promise something nice to me and then the sadist in me plans to give it to them the moment they break their promise. Because, come to think of it, we do break promises. All the time.
I am terrible with promises.
And then I came across this quote and wondered if one ever promises about the things that he or she must. No. But they do stick around and do things anyway. With pleasure. And I feel like using one of those cheesy fb status 'feeling blessed' things. Ignore the mush or ignore yourself. The pretty quote again,

“Some things you don't have to promise. You just do.” 
― Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave

Since I am jobless, I am going to write a detailed study. Since you are busy, you need not read this. Since you are judging me, bleh.

I have two major kinds of people flooding my facebook wall.

   1. The ones who are scared about the future job scenario

   2. The ones who are getting married

The ones who are scared about the future job scenario are again of three types

   1.1. The ones who got placed and did not get the offer letter

   1.2. The ones who got/might get placed and will not like the kind of job

   1.3. The ones who are struggling to bag the first job

Now there was a huge boom during pre and post Durga Pujo months about how people are getting placed and how they are grateful to this man and that woman for their success and all of the normal sappy status messages followed. Few months down the line people are now beginning to worry because the momentary happy feel has passed, the job security (almost) made them study NOT for the entrances to higher studies, no offer letter, let alone the joining letter has come and college is about to end. Then again there are the kinds who have been placed at companies, or the ones who know it for a fact that the kind of institutions they study in, they would bag a heavy reputation reflecting job in a month or so, if they want. Now the problem with this lot is the fact that they are not happy with the job. The soap bubble that they have forever lived in during +2 when they dreamed big and college days when they thought life is drama flick which would be designed the way they wanted, is bursting. Now this soap bubble is not like the plain dream bubble which when bursts would make you deal with reality. This is a mighty soap bubble which will make you cry with its little drops entering your dream zone and sucking it over. So hence comes all the frustration and depression of not getting the planned life. The third variety, the ones who are struggling to bag the first. Although they know it for a fact that once they get a job, the same frustration of sticking to the job, oiling and pleasing the seniors, lack of holidays, leaving city and that jazz would follow, but the momentary peace is missed. They have the acid comments from home (sympathy or anger) working against them. Thus follows the cutting down from friends and depression spreading all around.

So people have started to take pleasure in sadness. Self pity as I call it. Self pitying is absolutely ruining the world because people have actually started to enjoy doing it. Maa always called me an escapist because I like blaming somebody or the other for all my failure or unfulfilled desires, which are many. Now what I see her point when I find the whole wide world doing the same. God bless the handful who are happy and content and are complaining not.

Now about the ones getting married. They have three kinds of people, more specifically friends around them, commenting and sharing

2.1. The married friends for giving tips

2.2. The no plan to be married soon friends for ‘I-wish’

2.3. The no plan to be married soon friends for ‘why’

The batch that passed their class 12 from school in 2006! The didis of this batch have been getting married right from the beginning of 2013 and the process is on. Shreyoshi di, Angel di, Sudakshina di, Sreemoyee di, Baishakhi di, Srijita di and well too many. Now these didi-s have their married friends telling them not to get married. I have actually seen the friends coming out in public and telling them to go for love tests and compatibility tests and what not before getting married because they have had bad experiences themselves. The other set of friends have sighs and when-will-this-happening to me comments because they want to get married. The most irritating set of people in the whole scenario are these aunties, uncles, fathers, mothers and old school teachers pinching and commenting on the friends of the bride about when is their turn. The friends who genuinely do not want to get married right away (and this is just a handful of them) have fun counter comments and status’ to these get-married-soon-beta talks. This is the only bit that I have fun reading.

Since I have no work, I browse through all of this and come up with long blog posts that no one will probably read. I see my present and future in these people. Now you must be thinking I need a life because there are other fun and exciting things to do in life other than just thinking about jobs and weddings. Well yes right. Who likes strings being attached anyways?  But I am just this and this is all that I have been doing these days, other than weaving scenes of course. Oh and have you watched Yeh jawani and cried? No? You surely will not get the point that I tried to make then. I am not quite getting the point myself though. Winter is over and after the dreadful summer of 2010, I have absolutely no strength of facing the summer of 2014 with the same set of disappointments, if there are. Talking of disappointments, I think we have started to live with them long ago. I atleast have, so that also explains why I am not freaking out (well pretending not to) at the things that I should and writing this baseless random post! Except for that one cousin of mine who could commit suicide at a disappointment. I have always wondered about the mental state of people committing suicide. So these people lack courage or have extra courage to do what they do.  Gosh I am becoming old!

As my German teacher says, Tschuss!

P.S. This language actually has a vulgar tinge to it.

Oh and this amazing song that I even sing in my sleep these days

So, should I call you the winter?

Or the mighty winter sun?

Dare I name thee

Dare I call you my own

Yet when I pen you in my crimson tales

With the night dawning above,

All the doors just shut behind

Making way for love.

-Abhishikta

LOOP!

Happy Birthday! :)

Shukh Pakhider Shesh Asroy Shonar Khachay

Madly Bangali certainly is the Bangla movie that I've watched the maximum number of times and every time, every time I watch it, I get really really upset. Over? I don't know what. I think there was some other post on this movie in this blog. I happened to watch it first right after class 12 boards. Those were tough times. My joint entrance results were out and my rank was mighty 42369! HS results were not out yet and the WBJEE did wonders to my confidence. YES.
I was not particularly impressed with the story line or the acting or anything for that matter. The songs however I have loved. Each song of the movie sets in a happy gloom. When they sang 'Tania' at the end of the movie, at JU, I had dreams of joining JUDE. I really got glittery eyed at the song. When they sang 'Koto ki korar chhilo j', today, I remembered that late night at the Bilaspur station when I was actually out of options but join some random Engineering college at Chattisgarh. 'Maula' is probably the only happy song of the movie which instantly makes me sad.
The endless blabbering this late at night absolutely testifies how deeply this movie touches me every time. Few months down the line when and if I leave town, I know I would be hearing the two specific city based songs of the movie over and over again. When I learned how to make the chord shapes on the Guitar, the only thing that I looked forward to was this move and its songs. Not that I am saying these are extremely wonderful or technical or difficult for that matter. Today, one winter later when I brought out the dusty instrument out of case, I played them again.
When, which class I don't remember, we had Solitary Reaper with the last 'the music in my heart I bore' line (or was it Solitary Reaper?)  our English teacher gave us an essay to write on the most influential song of your life. I had nothing to write. Back then I thought some high figh ingriji song would make me look all cool and hep and wrote something on those lines. I wish we were given that thing to write today. Now that this post is slightly taking how-school-was-better turn, I would rather finish it here. Not that you care. Not that I care.
Ting.