Tag Archives: Fashion

When fate co-operates on an important day…

15 Oct

Yep, final year Photo-shoots are quite important, they are!

I surprised myself by not making too much of a fuss. I had borrowed hair-gel to use on my hair, but did not.
I only used a face pack, had the smallest work out in the world, took a shower and got dressed… All in one hour!

The wardrobe was quite experimental. Black French Connec. shirt that I’d bought for my folks’ anniv., grey trousers to go with them (Thanks for the fabulous combo again, Rakesh!), borrowed leather shoes, a bright pink tie and the violet contacts! The trousers were damn tight, so my back is giving me a fair amount of pain at the moment. The shirt was very fitting as well, as a result of which I’d skipped breakfast and had the lightest lunch. Meals makes one bloat for a good hour or two!

Yes, I’m tempted to post snaps. Maybe I will post it in some form, once I get my hands on them.

My hair thankfully cooperated. As of now, I’ve not seen a single snap in which they look unpleasant or scanty! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

So how was the response? As I said, the attire was experimental. Most refrained from commenting too vehemently on how contrasting they found the pink tie, with the shirt. Not in a positive sense.
Many others gave positive reviews. Hag Designate No. 3 said I looked very, very sexy! I don’t disagree 😀

Having reviewed some snaps, I see that there’s nothing to regret. I looked damn good, period! I surprised myself, really! I had no idea how much of a difference uniquely coloured eyes can make to one’s face…

As for the evening, I suppose I was drinking for some 3 hours, and I drank so much that it kept me going for another 4! Everyone was drunk like mad, dancing like there was no tomorrow, clicking away with cameras, singing, screaming, hollering.
I was dancing like mad with people I hardly speak to otherwise, and vice-versa. Alika refused to grind with me, I cannot imagine why. We’ve done it countless times before. I suppose she was intimidated by the surroundings (drunkards drunkards everywhere, not a sober soul). I was picked up three times by one fellow (who, again, I hardly speak to ever). I picked him up once and almost broke my back.
Another friend was damn drunk and nearly passed out. I sat there in the poshest club here, feeding him Pasta with my own hands!

I danced with about a million people. Everyone was happy, everyone was merry… The cameras were co-operating and I was looking hot.

It was a good day, folks!

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Jocular Weather Gods

20 Sep

It gets rather annoying at times to live in a town where the daily weather forecast reads “Partially cloudy skies interspersed with thundershowers and scorching sunshine”. In a 15 minute walk outdoors, the average resident here is subjected to more kinds of weather conditions than an average (or above-average or below average or downright despicable, for that matter) Delhi-ite experiences in 6 months.
Nonetheless, the rains are the most irksome and capricious of the lot. Thus, the umbrella is one’s closest companion here.

Naturally, when one carries any article on oneself for extended periods of time, it becomes part of him. Yours Truly, if within his capacity, wouldn’t permit anything run-of-the-mill to be part of him, right? So last year, he decided to pioneer (or atleast propagate) a trend… The age of the long black umbrella! Or rather, umbrella-when-it’s-raining-and-walking-stick-otherwise.

The initiative was a grand success and truly caught on!

Unfortunately, as usually happens with fashion-trends, there’s always a flip side. The unfoldable long-black-umbrella can get rather annoying to carry around, when it isn’t raining. So after a year of apprehension, yours truly said “What the heck” and started using the umbrella during rain AND sun.

But you see, that’s where the weather gods hop in with their pranks targeting a fellow like me, whose thoughts take only a moment to travel from Tanzania to Timbuktu.
So I left the mess towards the library this afternoon. The sun was shining, and up went the umbrella. So there I was walking, content in my own dreamland, with Jeff Buckley (*coughabbacough*) belting Hallelujah(*coughgimmegimmegimmecough*) into my ears. Two minutes later, I saw a girl look at me as if I was gay or something(!!) A minute later, I realized I couldn’t begrudge her for looking awkwardly at a bloke who was walking under a large black umbrella which was protecting him from no-sun and no-rain!!
It wasn’t the first instance of course. If I had ten-thousand dollars for every time I walked through 2 corridors of my hostel with my umbrella open above me, I’d be able to afford myself all the riches that even a sugar-daddy couldn’t shower me with!

But well, such is life.
Ha ha, weather gods, Ha Ha. 😐

Letter To The Dentist

5 Sep

5th September, 2009
Location Withheld

Dearest Dentist,
You really need to clean up your act. I came into your life with my crooked wisdom teeth. You came into my life with all your hotness. I showed faith in you. You showed interest in “my case”. I let you pull out my tooth. You called me back to pull out another. I ran all over the hospital looking for my file, so that we could re-unite together. You asked me why I was late!

Mine was a complicated case. So complicated that you wanted to take snapshots! What did I do? I sat there in your chair with a funny shower-cap on, and I posed! I literally cocked one eye up, so as to look hot and desireable. Do you have any idea how sexy that looks, coupled with the cosmetic makeover (more on that later) I had given my eyes? Which, thankfully, you noticed and commented on in a not-so-negative tone, but there’s no excuse for not admiring me more. I posed for you!
You probably smiled. I don’t know. You had a stupid mask on. But you did not react audibly!

Then you attacked my tooth. You ground it. You drilled. You hammered. You called another doctor (“Sir”) and consulted him, time and again. Wow, you’re not even a total doctor. A PG student at the most. But I still let you grind and hammer. And then stitch. I still trusted you. I let you take snapshots of my mouth in comprimising positions (No, I can’t explain what I mean!), cocking my eyebrow each time, even though I knew it wasn’t in the frame. I let you work on my tooth, which in your own words, “ne aapkee lagaa di” (“f*cked your case”). Everyone else smiled at and appreciated the entertainment package that was sitting in the chair. And how much interest did you show? Nothing!

When you were done, you were giving me post-operative tips. For instance, you told me I couldn’t drink or smoke for a week. Now I don’t care much about drinking or smoking, but I pretended to, just so that I could make a puppy-face to melt your heart. And I made it a point to ask you how long I had to wait before I could use my tongue to probe the operation site, as an adorable little kid would do. You told me not to. I asked you for how long. You said, “Don’t do it”. I again asked innocently, “For how long?” And then, you nearly reprimanded me for being careless! All I was trying to do was be cute!

Then you gave me your phone number to inform you of the recovery progress in the following hours. I SMSed you just half an hour later, asking if I could take my pain killers  a little sooner, and I signed off as “Jiske daant ne aapki lagaa di” (“He whose tooth f*cked your case”) and all you could say in return was “Ha[an] ok take care”??

Subsequently, I messaged you later on, as per your orders, and I signed off with “Enjoy your workout :)”
Did you know that I knew you go to a gym? Hmm? Did you? I do! And I mentioned that I’m aware of the fact that you work out, and yet, all you said in return to that message was “Gud thn tke care”!!!

What’s WRONG with you? Are you aware that I’m crazy about you(r hot-ness) even though you almost sound so prosaic when you speak? Are you conscious of the fact that I’ve saved the hottest snaps from your orkut album onto my hard-drive (Shut up Chandni!)?

Are you aware that a poor patient is constantly trying to hit on you, and you’re being one-hundred percent dense about it (consciously or unconsciously) even though there’ll come a day when we’ll permanently part ways and never see each other again (except that I’ll see you through your orkut snaps, and you might see me if you retain my snaps) and you won’t have to think about me ever again?

I’m disappointed, Doctor. I’m damn disappointed.

Forever yours,
UsP

In other news, Unsung 2.0 is here. No, there’s no revamp to the blog (at the moment). But there’s certainly been a cosmetic uplift, as mentioned earlier.

I unfortunately don’t have my camera on me, at the moment, so I’m going to use a low-res one from my phone. Here goes nothing!

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There were some compliments. One told me I looked like a paedophile.

Then there was criticism, which I don’t really care for. Ex-roomie commented that I’d do anything for attention. I disagree partly. My eyes seem far larger with coloured contacts, which I think is fantastic!

A few didn’t notice at all :S

Anyway, comment away folks!

Unsung Psalm 2.0

29 Jul

where “Unsung Psalm” refers to me. Yes, I need to get a pseudonym, I sound most ridiculous being called that! Any suggestions?

So I’ve transformed a bit this semester, I have. For one, I have 2 eyes instead of 4, which hasn’t quite been observed since year 1998!
Which also means that I can wear sunglasses now! Boy do I abuse it… It’s given me a new lease of life. The smallest bit of sun, or even a threat of it coming out from the perennial clouds and out come the shades… making me pretty much the only person walking on campus, wearing shades. If anyone interjects with the argument that I’ve long used to condemn “show-offs” (“Why pray must he need sunglasses when there is no sun? ‘Stud!'”), I simply tell them that it’s to “protect my eyes from dust, since I’m wearing contacts” which thankfully they don’t think much about because when you think about it, this isn’t Delhi and there is no dust!!

Another new feature in Unsung 2.0 is that he’s getting fat again! So what does he do? Join the swimming pool and gym ASAP! Today, if possible.

Last but not the least, Hagatha reminds Unsung that he’s suddenly become quite sarcastic and condescending all of a sudden. Through the entire club meeting that he was holding yesterday, welcoming prospective new members, he might’ve actually scared them a bit (even though he thought he was being extremely nice!) by ticking off the existing club members with sarcastic one-liners for being complete lazy bums (which they in his defense most certainly are). Then again, he ticked Hagatha off in lab yesterday with a sarcastic comment because she didn’t seem to know the contents of one particular subject that we’re taking this semester. (It sounds nice, saying “we’re taking a subject” even though it isn’t true because unlike in professional “professional” colleges, unlike our pseudo-professional ones, our subjects are forced on us!) It later turned out that Hagatha was right!!

Anyway, late for class. Laters, mes amies!

If you love me…

17 Jul

… and if you’re rich…

then hop down to Ambience Mall in Gurgaon, enter French Connection. On the left wall, you’ll find a bunch of white and black Tee’s hanging on display. I don’t know if I can call them Tee’s. More like designer tops. They have a deep V-shaped neckline with about 7-10 buttons. Pick one up for me and courier it please! Mom wouldn’t let me buy one. She said, in her exact words, “Oh please, that’s so gay!”

Okay, I’m kidding. I don’t really want anyone to buy it for me. But buy it for yourself, if you’re (a man) in good shape. (Otherwise, get in shape, and THEN buy it.)

So I spent 2 hours in office, running around to get my completion certificate. My Project Head gave me very suitable feedback. (“Needs to show more technical inquisitiveness.”) The HR chick was very sweet. (“Stay in Touch!”)

Then I joined Mum at the mall, who’d been walking around, waiting for me… bored & hungry.

When I got there, she said “Do you need to buy anything?” which ticked me off immediately. Then she said, “Let’s head downstairs… you can stop at a shop or two, on the way, in case you want anything.”
There’s only so much one can ignore one’s own kid when he’s reading out his shopping requirements. And there’s only so much lack of interest that one can show, when he’s trying to shop and NEEDS a companion’s involvement. There’s only so much one can complain about not having any variety around, in a shopping mall that boasts of over 1 k.m. of shopping.
She crossed all those limits.

Eventually, I gave up and we left without picking up anything. Yes, I indeed desire to perform futile exercises on my second last day in Delhi.

As we were nearing home, I thought I’d seek compensation in terms of  picking up some Proteins that I could use when I’m back in college and gymming again. As we neared the market, she drove staright home, saying she was too tired. (From all the shopping that we did, apparently.)

I’m meeting Vikram (was that it?) for Harry Potter tonight. Told him I’d dine at home, and meet him directly for the film… spend some quality time with my Mum and Dad.
Now I think I’ll dine with him, as well. Mum won’t distract herself from the TV to pay any attention to me (unless I’m bleeding profusely or something) and Dad and I always end up fighting anyway.

Check out me funky pants!

13 Apr

In my weekend getaway, I’d come across a pair of Aladdin pants, which hippies, who flock that place, tend to take a liking to. Being the perpetual freak, I picked one up.

To get a better idea…

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Except that mine were the last pair available in the shop, and hence were a bright orange in colour.

So yestreday, I believe I became the first person to wear them to college… an entire day at the library. When Hagatha saw me in them, she said “I know you live attention but this is too much…”

It was too much. But “too much” is only “enough” for me!

Naturally, I drew stares all day, and had to respond to a million queries as to what it was that I was wearing, why I was wearing it and so on and so forth.

Alika and Roomie, however, said they were proud of me, for my courage. Little did they understand, it took no courage! Draw everybody’s eyes wherever I went? I’d do it several times a week, if I could! (But I cannot and don’t. Only so much attention is good for you.)

The pants were so comfortable, I hardly ever thought I was wearing anything. And everywhere I went, I knew people were looking, which sort of made me smile. So I was basically walking around everywhere in funny pants, struggling to stifle a grin on my face.

Geez, I’m such an ASP (an acronym I picked up from a younger friend… Atten. Seekin~ Pig)!

Oh, at night, it was time for a friend’s birthday. So I spent the nite at another friend’s apartment, danced a lot, mostly by myself, got very very high, had a neat whiskey shot (which I despised), a LOT of Rum and a lot of fun, even though most others were so high and extremely sombre for a lot of the evening. And I think I danced quite a bit (mostly by myself, a little with people here and there) because my ankle is aching immensely!

Okay, exams approach. Later then!

Hats and Barkhas

12 Feb

So I had this really awkward dream last night.
In that dream, I was visiting some college for an event or a conference or something of the sort. I walked into a room, and lo behold, before me was talking on the phone, before my very eyes, none other than the magnanimous Barkha Dutt!

To the very detail, I recall pretending to faint on seeing her, just to flatter her. Coupled with falling on the floor… the entire do. Soon after, I was on my feet and expressing my admiration of her work “even though I haven’t seen you on the telly for quite some time now.” And I told her about how, on a recording of WeThePeople that I’d gone for (in real), she was asking around for comments during a commercial break, and when I managed to attract her attention and was addressing her, she kept her hand on my shoulder while listening to what I had to say (again, in real). And how I never wanted to wash that shoulder ever again.

At the same time, I recalled that Chandni and her Boy, along with some others, had been complaining about NDTV coverage being irresponsible and intrusive. And I mentioned it to her, in brief, because it’s hard to concentrate on details in dreams.
While she was offering an explanation, my mind happened to drift off to a shelf behind her. Lo behold, on the shelf were not 1, not 2, but 4-5 cowboy hats, my fetish-since-eternity! In different makes, designs and colours too! I recall there was at least one in tan and another in greyish black.

And while Barkha was explaining to me why her work was not irresponsible, I simply walked past her and started admiring the hats. At that exact point in time, I was under the impression that I was in my own home, that these hats had been around under my roof, and that I hadn’t known till then.

Dreams are soo abstract. Especially, locations, people and events.

I don’t think I got to try on any of the hats. I was awake soon after. And no, I didn’t manage to catch Barkha’s defence either.
Quite a waste of a marvellous dream, if you ask me.