##SATISFACTION##
This article has been posted here because www.rashoney.blogspot.com is a known blog and this article has the potential to hurt personal sentiments as people don't dedicate mere songs to the person discussed (whose nick, by the way, is the random amalgamation of four keys picked arbitrarily from the first row of keys of the keyboars while "playfully" attempting to mask self-identity in a pseudo-chat) let alone blogposts, which may seem a bit over-the-top and a bountiful mass of rashness. I only wax-free-fuly hope this post does make it to Honey_Ras someday.
##KOI NAHIN HAI##
I am about to introduce a new feature to all blogposts of Honey_Ras and Lipstick Chronicles(except the poetries....it would then become too cheesy to be of any practicality). I hereby swear I will mention at each respective point here, the soundtrack playing in the background while I write my blog. Being a strawberry-lover and thereby, according to many ice-cream-analogous-tarot-card-readers, an eternal pessimist, before stating the reasons why I chose to introduce this seemingly barmy idea, I will try to clear the reader's possible and very much justified qualms about my sudden surge of self-obsession and narcissism. No, my idea is NOT letting on the negligible amount of readers(with completely non-negligible magnitude of respect nevertheless)my vivaciously vibrant and crazily arranged playlist, nor exuding any sort of non-existent undeciphered intellect associated with it. The idea is to justify the imbalance and mispropriety of the placement of different paragraphs which have no other reasonable clause abiding their existence. I myself am yet to collect any ciphers connecting the songs to the paragraphs or lines following them and therefore hardly expect the readers to make anything tangible out of them either. Nevertheless, if you do believe you finally ended up assigning any pattern whatsoever with the inputs, your ideas will be met with a complete unscornful gesture of gratitude, nullified nitwitty non-skeptism and an abundant amount of awe.
##HOTEL CALIFORNIA##
Yes. I agree this article is being written at an insane period of time. Precisely 11 hours after the end of my 3rd semester exams..also coincidentally exactly ONE semester after this blog had been created for, as mentioned in the stale description bar above, the sole purpose of whiling away my last couple of days after the fateful end of the Second semester. If I can get away with me being a bit over-the-top-girlish for what I am about to say next, I shall be indebted to the reader for, well lets be rational here , about two weeks. I think I can aptly celebrate the "Yayy-my-blog-is-a-semester-old!!!!!" party at Arambaghs here in Lalpur, Ranchi. All my coochi-coo friends are invited for an afternoon of self-paid, self-served and self-tiring bout of plesantry-exchangings thusly.
Getting started:
The 14th of Feb, 2010. How the day started, I remember not; there was nothing very eventful about its commencement. Though I would not say the uneventfulness of the day was unpredicted. A great hoopla had been created mere weeks before my first Valentine Day at college through a highly-hyped-by-sucky-at-relationships-engineering-sophomores-Facebook-page, which called itself "we will be busy killing mosquitos on Valentine's Day". I had haplessly clicked the like button as I frequently used to, at that time to a HUMONGOUS number of pages. At the last count, my likes were at an almost unsurpassable high of 100000. I had decided to wear black for the day: a no-mourning-no-protest black, just as an ode to an insane colour code created by a viral pre-valentine sms, which assigned codes-of-conduct for dressing up for the occasion according to your relationship status. I, of course, don't remember the full code (even if I would have, I would say the same as a pathetic attempt of saving myself from the juvenile facial expression of the "respected-reader" for remembering trivias amounting to such unaccountable aftermaths).
##FROM THIS MOMENT##
but what I do remember is that black stood for "single and uninterested".
##TUMBLING DICE##
I and my then future roommate were tirelessly roaming about the campus for attaining the bejewelled signature of a certain Mrs. Someone, the details of that endeavor could be searched for in the blogpost "Spo(o)ils of KIIT" if interested. We were supposed to meet a certain SOMEONE at the ticket counter. What I had not realised on that day, that second was the strategic timing of the encounter.
##BEAST OF BURDEN##
Now that I have ended up developing a lasting-longer-than-three-weeks-crush on that SOMEONE do I decide to peek into the plethora of hovering flashbacks of all past sightings and scrutinising them to the point of killing my cronies of boredom. The other day I tried assigning a "first-saw-date" to this crush and ended up realising I did not even have to cook up any discreetly vicodified date. The day was in itself was haute enough.
##RUBY TUESDAY##
So what DID he say to me the first time we met?! I distinctly remember him asking in his characteristic baritone,"Sneha?! Right?!"
##STREET FIGHTING MAN##
To which I had replied in my overtly-rusted-from-lack-of-usage voice, "Yeah. Right." Some random dscussion about reservations later, he was a blissfully forgotten five-minute-period from the toe-tiring day.
##AASHIYANA##
I had fallen asleep yesternight writing this article, as Ashiaana started playing. So I resume not literally from where I had hung up last night but from today, when I finally sat down and jotted down reminiscences; in the true snse of the word. I LOATHE myself from doing this and further minimise myself owing to the fact that I am actually writig this. I jot this down only because I swore to myself before penning down this particular post that I would be TOTALLY honest while mentioning facts. So here I am.
##JIYEIN KYU##
I opened my Gmail and like an innocent-and-overtly-curious puppy, clicked the "View past chats" button. Right from the first chat ever, which, by the way was Way before I actually met NEWNICK (Yes, thats what I refer to him as amongst my friends, as he is so damn sharp, witty, Robert-Langdonish and with so many ears attached to his innumerable friends spread throughout the cyberspace that I don't find any other nick more saturated with propriety, secrecy, and codified honesty that could truly represent him.) The past chat viewing option is something I plentily resent, because they are like cyber foorprints, always poised with fearsome readiness to blab out your long-forgotten words, like a judicial alibi. But I did make use of it all the same because money and to some extent, crush makes my world spin.
##I WILL BE ON MY WAY##
HOLY CRAP!!! was exactly what came out of my mouth when I finished reading the first few chats.
##GUESS THINGS HAPPEN THAT WAY##
I was like a slimy leach, not a lot different from those in Lemony Snicket's A Series Of Unfortunate Events, whenever I chatted with in those days. Tot!! If any of my juniors ever bored me to such torturous sessions of Gtalking, I would have reflexively blocked them from my chatlist forever, for their own good, lest I would end up reprimanding them over their joblessness.
##THE DREAM##
I kept pestering him over his explicit excellance in quizzes, blogging, and I even considered his Facebook DP self-portrayed. I am definitely not going to delve into the exact contents of the conversations as that would be equivalent to idiomatic paradigms like "Eating one's own hat", "Hyper-hypocrisy" and "Bray-bragging".
##WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS##
What wouldn't I have given the song "To know her is to love her" to play at this particular juncture, only with the subject priviledged to be known being changed to "him". :)
##BABY'S IN BLACK##
As I have left no stone unturned to deviate from the topic in hand as much as bloggably possible, I would not
restrain myself from mentioning my little doubt here. Has this BIB song got to do absolutely ANYTHING with LBD?!
##TILL THERE WAS YOU##
Now I have thrown the chronology of events out of the window to the winds and will write about anything that strikes the parallel-universe-theory-believing-mind of mine, which has zilch respect for time, and would call the coveted dilation theory to come to my rescue and save me from the wrath of Brahma!!!
$$love was there all along but till now I never heard it sing$$.... woow!!!
##NAI NAI E AADHAR THEKE##
Following will be some completely random pieces of trivia. Bear with me.
1.) Only the other day, the narcissist in me took a backseat and I googled out someone's else's name for a change, NEWNICK, precisely and got hold of some really ZAZZY and UNUSUAL pictures, pieces and diary-cum-scrapbook blog that NEWNICK used to maintain when he was in class 9th or 10th I presume. Sweet !
##DON'T IT MAKE MY BROWN EYES BLUE##
2.) The blog was served by some certain "Multiply". Quite understandable. My first blog too used to be on a nothing-resembling server called "Wetpaint". AH! Wetpaint...one of the few people on earth NEWNICK is who has actually taken the pains to go through www.tulip4u.wetpaint.com , and had called it "good". How insulting and wannabe that blog is, only I and my murky board exam days know.
##DEKHA TOH MERA SAAYA BHI MUJHSE JUDA MILA##
3.) He is so deep, bound-to-family, down-to-earth, multi-talented, friend-caring, inspiring, Victorian-age-romantic, self-restraining, spontaneous, well-read, sensitive, fun-n-people-loving, true-to-himself, respectful, aspiring, high-willed, an impossibly-and-thus-painful perfect combination of docility and anchor-attitude, practically sane and impractically fabulous, OH DARN!!!!!Whatever happens to my words whenever I try to describe him in full proportions. The word is just there in my gut, or maybe at the bottom of my tongue but gets lost, diluted, reduced to proportionless dimensions while travelling down to my fingers for getting typed. I officially leave the endeavor of describing him and in finality render myself unable to accomplish the undoable.
##NAHI SAAMNE TU##
Just one, last hapless attempt....
4.) He is so imperviously sure and crystal-clear about what he wants from himself and the world that it makes him inapproachable and sometimes feared, even despised by people, weaklings, who get intimidated by his painfully perfect demeanour. Strikingly similar to The Howard Roark I always fantasized about though it would be an act of sheer immodesty to call oneself The Dominique. He is a raw artwork of piercing clarity, unveiled and indispensible absoluteness. His stare resembles the dark epiphany of an X-ray machine, as if he has the capability of seeing right through you. He is non-judgemental, self-believing, ungullible, and adorably laconic. How can one know him and not fall in an infinite bout of irrevocable admiration(exactly that) with him?!
Finally, a cornucopia of vibrant possibilties :D as thanksgiving was just about the corner.
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