suitable,indeed!

Neelanjana Basu is violently in love with a suitable boy ;)

Well..that makes me sound like the foolish girl Lydia of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. Ugh!

Maybe I should consider,

Neelanjana Basu has finally laid her hands on a suitable boy ;)

No, no..that would appear unnecessarily bold.

How about, Neelanjana Basu has finally found a suitable boy ;) ?

Umm..but that statement might as well have come out of the larynx of a conservative girl with

marriage-is-the-mission-of-my-life etched upon her forehead.Nayh, I will give it a skip.

Of course I can play the honestly card and simply stick to,

Neelanjana Basu is reading the book- a suitable boy.

But that would eliminate the double meaning from the statement, take away the fun part!

No, I'm not a fan of talking (or even writing for that matter) in third person. I stopped doing it ever since I turned five. I was trying to contemplate an appropriate status message for my facebook account. But then the nature of responses that this status message might have drawn had I most imprudently put it up discouraged me hugely.Hugely.Thankfully. It both amuses and appalls me at the same time- the way most people are unable to put two words of sense together while commenting on status messages. A friend had once put up a status of 'just woke up' .Three people 'liked' it. Worse still, a few went on to type-" hey, me too!"

Anyway, I'm so sick of these networking sites that I'm almost certain now that my days on such highfalutin territories are numbered. One of these days...oh, one of these days for sure..

I'm in a rather acerbic mood at the moment. And this, after having multiple mood swings since morning. Cheerful, when I woke up. Dreamy, when I went for a walk. Hopeful, after having walked several footsteps. Responsible, after father left me a job to get done. Temporarily relieved, after talking to a friend. Despondent, after talking to another. The despondency lingered for the entire afternoon, for it aggravated my grievance. Crying doesn't always lead to catharsis. Lost, while watching the random television programs. Impatient, when the repair person had still not arrived. Anguished, when my mind kept drifting to the reason of my downheartedness. Indignant, at the sheer unfairness of life. Doubtful, of my seemingly cursed fate. Slightly appeased after deciding to go to Crossword. Calm, after being transferred to a fictitious world of fictitious people. Annoyed, after returning to mine. Silent, while dining. Indifferent, while watching a re-run episode of friends. And acerbic now. But I've already written that, haven't I? Not the best of the days. Yes, it was a very unhappy day indeed.

But the few happier moments were the ones that I spent at the bookstore. This is the reason I love that place. It has an uncanny calming effect on me. Not just the books, the bookshop too. So, I picked up a book that I wanted to read for a very long time. I'm barely through one-tenths of A Suitable Boy, and already I'm getting this feeling that there's a distinct possibility that this might

become one of my favorites. I didn't purchase it. I mean, well..I know it is worth seven hundred rupees but of late I've been withdrawing a lot of money from my account and consequently a bit short-handed at the moment. Besides, that place has such a charm that I'd have wanted to sit there and read even if I'd bought it. It is blissful to visit on weekdays. No garrulous people, who after their unrestrained shopping spree at a mall nearby think it to be their moral duty to bring their kids to a 'worthwhile' place as well. Some sights are rather cute. Mommies reading out to their kiddos, or daddies explaining their darlings the meaning of a word or another. But the store attracts a good deal of pretentious crowd as well. They're the ones who bother me. Oh, but never mind those fakers. I don't pay much attention to them as long as I've got a place to sit and read peacefully. As I made my way to a comfy couch, my book clutched in my hand( well..that's not entirely true. It is so bulky that you need both your hands to hold it!) I realized that I was thirsty. I chose to ignore it. After reading a few pages, I read the word 'Ganges' and I felt thirsty again. The more I thought of thirst, the thirstier I got. When it could no longer be ignored, I headed for the cafeteria that is within the store. Now, these are exactly the kind of social situations that I feel awkward to be in. Going to an eating joint all by yourself and that too when all you want is a glass of water. To make the matters more awkward it was totally deserted.

"You don't have to order something only because you want water to go with it. It's perfectly OK to ask for just a glass of water. A lot of people do that, so what?It isn't a crime for god's sake!" I kept reminding myself. But even before these instructions could properly sink in my head, the counter-opinion side of the mind blurted out-" What a cheapskate! How ruthlessly you would shatter his hopes of finally earning some money. If it is deserted in such a beautiful evening, there's no chance he'd have had a single customer during the day". But before a rational conclusion could be reached between opinion and counter-opinion, I found myself saying,

"One cappuccino please".

As he began to brew, I added- " Can I have a glass of water please". Nicely done, thought I.

"Erm..You have to buy a bottle" replied the aproned guy.

"Oooh..kay, gimme one then". (Goddammit! :x)

Yeah, so I ended up paying rupees sixty and two for a sip of water.

I hate it when I'm like this. Too much uptight, too much of what-would-they-think-of-me types. This always coincides with my unhappy mood. I'm so much cooler when I'm happy. Totally unworried, even flaky at times. I love my happier, confident self. Wish I had a control over my mood swings.

A character in the book reminded me of a totally irrelevant person. Not because they bear any resemblance, but because my mind is a wandering freak. There are times when you're reading something particular and you randomly think of a person, to your own surprise. Later, every single time you read that particular thing you would be reminded of that very person who was a random selection of your brain in the first place. I don't know how this stuff works. But it does, at least it does for me. So, this person (not the character, the real one)-I despise him and I don't know why! He's just a random college guy I happen to know by chance. He isn't a friend or classmate or not even an acquaintance. We've never spoken, not even indirectly. And yet every time I see him I'm overcome by a feeling of resentment..for it has to be resentment. And call me a psycho or whatever, I think he reciprocates my cold gesture. There are vibes you can just feel. When someone doesn't like you, you know. Just the way you know when someone does. I've tried, not in vain, to extricate myself from the pool of such negativities. Have been half-successful. Now maybe because I've somehow got myself to believe that bad things would happen to me when this person is around, they actually do! And as a cover-up for my own shortcomings I pass the buck to him and convince myself by saying bitterly " Only because He was there". No, this won't do. Blaming random people for my own faults won't do. Also, I can't afford to prevaricate anymore.

I had to edit the previous line four times, which means I'm quite drowsy.

I hope Ms.Sullen Mood departs for good,

And pray, make haste, if she kindly would.

I hope she sets up her dwelling far far away,

And if she tries to creep back, may she go astray.

:-)

Physics Degree

I went to crossword yesterday, after a very long time. What a shame! I live less than a minute's walk away! The thing is that there are four crossword vouchers in my possession since my b'day. And I've decided to put these to good use. Which is why I've vowed not to spend these on crime books, something that is characteristic of me. For a change I want to buy a book, that can be read again and again( No, I already have hp series :) )
So, I headed straight to the new arrival section. Four newspaper articles, three television interviews and one radio chat later I'm very keen on reading 'The story of my marriage'. I wish to believe that Bhagat's going to deliver what he has promised, this time round. Couldn't spot it. Asked a store guy. He told me, in way one talks to a five year old when one is trying to mask one's exasperation with an air of fake patience, that it hasn't released yet, but will adorn the bookstores very soon. Silly me. OK. Lesson learnt. When you spread the newspaper every morning, try to actually read it!
So anyway, since I couldn't find anything that I'd want to read again and again, my vouchers still lie idly in my once-cluttered-now-clean drawer. I wanted to buy something from the literature section. Actually a good compilation of plays would've been it. It has been a long time since I've read plays. Couldn't find the book. I can be very picky at times. Honestly, it can be safely said that I'm more picky than most of the customers anyway. The more I visit crossword these days, the more I find Landmark's collection richer. But that place isn't half as comfy as this one is.

On a carefree sunday evening, during the mad rush hour, even a panglossian wouldn't be hopeful of finding a space to park herself (or himself;know it doesn't matter, but why run the risk of being called an agressive feminist). Vaise, I'm both. Agressive. Feminist. But not both words placed next to each other in an alphabetical order. Yeah, so where was I? But anyway, I guess I was lucky to find an empty place near the toy section. Pleased at my discovery, I wondered why these fools would rather keep standing than sit on this vacant seat. And just a moment later I knew why. The little fancy table next to me was not just for tasteful rococo furnishing. It was a help desk of toys section. I 'm unable to decide what was more uneasy. The riotous kids who made a racket or their mothers who darted glances at the title of the book that I was reading. I was secretly happy that I picked up 'Almost Single' from the rack and not '20 and still a virgin'. And now about this. This isn't looking good. Seriously. There was a time when I actually gave a very disdainful look to books with such titles. I would roll my eyes at friends who'd rather browse through romantic section, than tagging along with me at the crime or science section. I'm telling myself this, again and again-this is most certainly not looking good.


Some forwarded mails are singular and superb. I liked this one very much indeed.

It concerns a question in a physics degree exam at the University of Copenhagen:

"Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer".

One student replied: "You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the barometer plus the length of the string would equal the height of the building."

This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that the student was failed immediately. The student appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct, and the university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case.

The arbiter judged that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. To resolve the problem it was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer which showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principle of physics. For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought. The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several relevant answers but couldn't make up his mind which to use.
On being advised to hurry up the student replied as follows:

"Firstly you could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from the formula H= 0.5g*t squared. But bad luck for the barometer".

"Or if sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure it's shadow. Then you measure the lenght of the skyscraper's shadow, and thereafter it's a simple matter of proportional arithmetic to work out the height of the skyscraper."

"But if you want to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulam, first at the ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out as a difference in the gravitational restoring force T= 2 pi square root(l/g)."

"Or if the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer length and then add them up".

"If you merely wanted to be boring and orthodox about it, of course you could use the barometer to measure the air pressure on the roof of the skyscraper and on the round, and convert the difference in millibars into feet to give you the height of the building".

"But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly, the best way would be to knock on the janitor's door and say to him 'If you would like to have a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this skyscraper'."

The student was Niels Bohr, the only Dane to win the Nobel Prize for Physics and the teacher in question was Rutherford.

I loved this person's name as a teenager. Still do. Because it sounds like my name- in progress :D
I love Mr. Rutherford's name as well. More so because I loved the play that we had in our syllabus at school- The importance of being Earnest. :)