On An Intense Winter Night

So, I'm bored and slightly angsty watching Vampire Diaries in my room and decide to stir things up a bit. I climb three flights of stairs till I reach the terrace and the beauty of the night just overwhelms me. And I realize what I'd been missing. I was hiding all along, from a part of myself that embraces the empty darkness, the chill and the danger of unfamiliarity. Playing 'Take my Breath Away' and 'I don't love you' on full volume on my iPOD, I begin snapping away with my cell cam. Here's what I captured in four shots. There's no way I'm putting them on Facebook; dumbasses there won't understand or even try to comprehend what I felt for those amazing ten minutes on the terrace, just me and the starlit heavens above.

Tragic Endings for Assholes

Cycledude:
Why?
Because all the emotional drama in my life began with him. Before him there was peace all round.

How does it have to end?
He goes cycling late at night, encounters the creepy smiling man on the way (See here) and gets chased right into a deep pit full of piranhas.

Preacherdude:
Why?
Suffered years of heartache thanks to him. Hate him.

How does it have to end?
He gets tricked into thinking he's on a pilgrimage, but accidentally stumbles upon a top-secret meeting of Yakuzas. His little finger is instantly chopped off as per Yakuza tradition, and slashety slash....that's the end of the rest of him.

Preacher dude's brother:
Why?
Because he's a little pansy who whines and thinks he's royalty from the medieval ages or Marie Antoinette or something.

How does it have to end?
He's deceived into thinking he owns a kingdom. While he carries on with his debauched ways, sleeping around with several maidens and a courtesan, one of them sets an asp free into his pants. He faints in a girly fashion and then passes away from the bites.

Knight of Wands
Why?
For making me wait 3 years and doing nothing at the end of it.

How does it have to end?
He's listening to his headphones as usual, when he suddenly gets a high voltage shock due to static electricity buildup and malfunctioning of his iPOD. He goes deaf and dies at the same time.

Gorilla-Pervert
Why?
For initially flirting with me, forcing me to tolerate his stench and later bitching about me while making life hell for my project group in third year.

How does it have to end?
A couple of gorillas seduce him into their cages and ass-rape him to death for the entire zoo to see.

DistilleryDude
Why?
For making my first kiss the worst and least memorable as well as for drilling the significance of his caste, religion and job into my brain repeatedly.

How does it have to end?
With a passionate kiss from a Sumo wrestler, a long steamy shower and intimacy soon after. You can imagine how that would end.

Lying Dickhead
Why?
For lying to me about him still seeing his ex and expecting me to anticipate dates for which he'd never turn up.

How does it have to end?
He takes his cheap girlfriend to a seedy bar cum restaurant, where he orders for a plate of burgers. The catch? The burgers are filled with ground-up glass resulting in a slow and painful death for the two of them.

Whistler
Why?
For acting like a psychotic prick; talking to me one minute and ignoring me the next. And also for whistling, slamming doors, jumping on his bed and making beeping sounds when I'm exhausted and eager for some shut-eye.

How does it have to end?
He plays video games on his laptop, when his operating system is all of a sudden infected with a deadly virus. His laptop shuts down, triggering an emotional tantrum from its owner who is sucked up by the frustrated virus and pixelated to fit into the system. He is stuck there for an eternity, with no way out and as good as dead.

Caught in The Web of Destiny

Before things get too hectic with assignments and presentations, I thought I'd mention life at the amazing university I'm currently studying at as well as it's lovely campus.Walking back after lectures, I pass the Ian Potter Museum of Art and plan strategically how the rest of my day should go. The icy cold wind hits me and I pull my jacket around me tighter, wondering if it would still be dreadfully cold the next day. And if so, then how I'd wake myself up the next morning from the heavy slumber winter tends to trap us in. I plan my day's shopping at Aldis and Queen Vic market, hoping the whistling geek next door would have the foresight and caring, to pop up magically out of nowhere and help me with the bags. Better still, I wish we could both go shopping together. Him, with his usual skepticism and I, stuck in my daydreams. After we arrive back home, I'd prepare a meal for the two of us followed by a trip to the park nearby and gaze silently into the rippling water of the fountains. Oh, how I despise building castles in the air, only to have them completely demolished by time and our respective careers. Something tells me that I'll never meet so kindred a spirit as you, ever again and to grab hold of these precious moments and fantasies while they last. I  hope that day at the wishing well beside the Cathedral did the trick. Dearly hope it did.

Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) - Best Kiss Scene Ever!

In a gender-reversed version of his previous hit Pretty in Pink, John Hughes retreads all-too- familiar ground in Some Kind of Wonderful, the story of a sensitive, young would-be artist, Keith , who vies for the affection of his high school's popularity queen, Amanda (Lea Thompson), seemingly out of some deep-rooted insecurity regarding his social ineptitude. He enlists the help of his butch best friend and fellow misfit, Watts, unaware that she secretly pines for him. While she goads him to give up his pointless pursuit of Amanda, he encounters one other small obstacle -- Amanda's rich bully of a boyfriend, Hardy who threatens Keith with a face rearrangement. Undeterred, Keith decides he will, by any means necessary, escort his dream girl to the prom -- but not before he buys her expensive jewelry with the money from his college fund in order to impress her.  -Rottentomatoes

Why I'm Going to Miss True Blood Forever

• Things are way more messed up in Bontemps as they are in the world we experience. Imagine a vampire's face appearing at the window in the dark when you're about to get into bed. Or being confronted with a werewolf when you're going for a pee in the bushes during a nightly stroll. It makes us realize how safe we truly are, away from supernatural elements...with no one to fear but ourselves, other human beings and the rest of the animal kingdom.

• It's comforting in a twisted way to know that the characters of the television series suffer way more than we do, until their imminent deaths. It makes suffering and misery seem really cool. It's as though the more problematic your life is, the more you can relate to the lives of the main characters.

• It glamorizes Death. Some of people's worst fears are always connected with Death such as the fear of heights, dolls or clowns. Heights aren't what really scare us; it's the fact that jumping all that distance may be leading us to the ultimate end. People may not think about their lives eventually coming to an end, but its the most deep seated fear in all of us. No matter how tired and bored of living we may seem, we do value our lives highly.

• The vampires just don't give a damn about anything. Speak their minds without thinking twice, go about murdering people like roaches, shag anything that moves and hurl about torrents of verbal abuse, despite the fact that they aren't really immortal and can cease to exist with a wooden stake through their hearts. That seems to really highlight the aphorism 'Carpe diem' and kick us out of the rut we've stuck ourselves in by being too cautious. You're just going to die in the end anyway. No one wins, no one loses. Not even an amoeba.

• Alcide, Jason, Eric and Sam happen to be my most interesting fictional crushes ever. So much alpha masculine power packed into one TV show. Sigh.

• You're either bad or good. No sugar icing bullshit. It's one of the two extremes. There are hardly any characters who merge in with the background and remain neutral or undivided between the two extremes. Every character seems to have a dark side to them that is exposed eventually. You tend to admire them for who they are, no matter how diabolically calculating they may seem. Not even gentlemanly Bill can seem angelic for very long.

• And last of all, there won't be anything worthwhile to look forward to on TV on a Sunday. No more squishy vampire guts, needless violence, graphic adult scenes or emotional drama to stir you out of your lazy weekend slumber.

The Beauty of Venus in Scorpio

Venus in Scorpio females tend to have that mysterious allure that draws people towards or away from them. They look exceptional in clothing that is black or white which are colors symbolizing  purity and regeneration, words often associated with the sign of Scorpio. Women with this placement in their natal charts, have suffered more than their share of love woes. They get naturally paranoid, suspicious and possessive about the people they deeply care for. They tend to have an understated elegance about them, rarely revealing much of  skin, but seducing all the same. They don't take love affairs lightly and may fluctuate between the two extremes of complete loyalty in marriage or absolute abstinence, usually ending up as women of the cloth. Below is a visual guide to take you through the rich depth and dark beauty of women born under a Scorpio venus.

Carly Rae Jepsen
 

Jennifer Connelly

Chiaki Kuriyama

Beatrice Dalle

Vinona Ryder

Smita Patil

Lena Katina

Mariana Klaveno

Carrie Otis

Sophie Marceau

Jennifer Ulrich

Zoey Deutch

INDIANS: The Bills, Elle Drivers, O-Ren Ishiis, Budds and Vernitas of my life

Most of my early torturers were Indians; they bullied me mercilessly for just looking cute as a kid while they'd strut about with the stench of coconut oil and pickles on them. They would pinch my cheeks with their filthy nails, punch me across the floor just because I looked at them and even slap me for turning up in the wrong class.
Those days aren't behind me however, since I've had the misfortune of meeting an aunty from Mumbai and like most bombayites, throws attitude around like she's sprinkling holy water and lets her tongue run faster than her legs can. She uses me the first couple of days to take snaps of her so as to glorify her grotesque features and then ditches me for a more 'sophisticated' tribe of hindi-speaking holy water-sprinklers. She hardly ever talks to me anymore but puts me down, forgetting how pathetically she'd beg for information about the simplest things when she'd just arrived at the new place. The next case study is the guy who lives right next door to me. The funk knows I can't stand his whistling at 2am in the morning, but continues doing so. He sticks his head out into the freezing cold knowing full well that it'll cause him a fit of cough later, but it doesn't bother him either. He stares at me intensely nowadays having lost his tongue (perhaps having mistaken it for bacon) and looks at me like a complete stranger. He prefers typing commands into his precious laptop to going sightseeing in a country as uniquely beautiful as Australia. Another example is that of the creepy 30-something hag who looks at my clothes and accessories way more than she does my face and asks me to repeat whatever I say, instead of plucking the gunk out of her ears which would improve her hearing.
Relatives on facebook have begun worrying themselves sick over my health after having ignored my existence for three years. They think it's their version of the Inquisition and are hell-bent on destroying my peace of mind with a flurry of questions regarding business which is none of their concern whatsoever. It wasn't any different in college. Kids would calculate the worth of my clothes and shoes faster than they'd analyze a sample of DNA, and then judge me accordingly. Never had I felt more repulsed by an entire group of people in my life, than I did at that moment. I've totally given up talking about them and it's as though they never existed and were just part of a horrendous nightmare that lasted for three years. The guy I went out for a short while, could barely digest the news that I'd got an offer at a university abroad, assuming me to be the worthless dickhead with a sinus problem that he was. He never could say anything pleasant from then on, always letting a couple of put-downs slip out of his rotten phlegm-filled mouth. I'm just glad that whole episode ended with one horrid date. Dear Almighty, save me from the Indians who threaten to engulf me in their hurricane of pessimism, narrow-mindedness, pickles and stinky oils.

Henri 2, Paw de Deux