Blogthings

You Are a Phoenix

Driven and ambitious, you tend to acquire material success easily. You have grand schemes - both for your own life and for changing the whole world. You are a great leader, and you have no problem taking the reigns. However, you aren't all business. You also have great talents for performing and visual arts.

What Mythological Creature Are You?

trisha


the phoenix



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Costume Dressing For the 21st Century Outcast

A SHORT TREATISE ON DRESSING FOR THE AVERAGE REBELLIOUS TEENAGE GIRL circa 2008


The first word on dressing for teenage girls in Kolkata is of course the Mall. This holy institution houses eclectic styles, several designer brands and absolutely no sense of chic dressing. It is a godawful mishmash of fusion trends at the moment. Apparently garish is in. Go Kolkata.




ANYWAY, the kind of girl (see above illustration to SO prove my point) who buys this stuff is usually one very optimistic chick. No amount of gap jeans or Manolo Blahnik shoes or Satya Paul accessories can make you look less

a) pudgy, wobbly, and pouring out of that tight waisted halter-top

OR

b) like a stick insect lost inside clothes that SHOULD make you look good but end up making you looking like a loser of a , well, stick insect with brittle twigs for limbs and cotton fluff in place of a brain.


But then this particular piece of admittedly self-indulgent writing is not about that brand of air-heads, appealing though it may be to rip their psyches apart. No, today I would rather think about the girls that fall outside this category. Like the sporty ones, the funky trendsetters, the punks, the moushumi-s, the romantic ones, the aspiring heroines, and the ones who honestly couldn't care less.

The thing about (us) girls is that we like dressing good, but we don't think the world is coming to an end when we turn up somewhere and the bi*** across the room is wearing our outfit. We're more laid back about clothes and life in general. We don't freak out on accessories and although we do look at winter/fall showcase lines we only "approve and follow" when we "like". Not fanaticism. Just appreciative consumerism. See illustration below.




YES this is going somewhere.

I usually wear jeans and something on top. Mostly ethnic-chic/smart-casuals/punk-grunge if you will, sometimes with a jacket, earrings at a stretch, minimal camouflage, and HEELS. I CANNOT live without heels. I may be topping 5'7ft by now but i still need to feel literally "on top". At all times.
Throw in a ponytail or a bandanna and a bored expression and I am set to go out and conquer.

But recently I've been forced to make some really weird (for me) fashion choices. On the 11th of February I wore a sari. Yes, that's right, a sari. I could barely walk, I was chilled to the backbone from the wind, and it all fell apart as I raced back upstairs to change for my very first date with (bleep), so that I burst into my room wearing nothing but two fistfuls of unravelled sari and a panic-stricken expression.

And today I woke up and put on a skirt.
In self-defence I must say that I never actually went out and bought this thing. Some girls bought it for me for a (disastrous) dance performance in January. I kept it and broke it in today.
It (the aforementioned skirt) is knee length. It is a light cornflower beige in colour. It has TASSELS, for god's sake.
I wore it with a close-fitting white top with long sleeves, brushed open hair and black heels. When I finally worked up the immortal nerve to look in the mirror I swear to god I thought I saw a teenage amazonian version (T/Ray 0.2008??) of Oprah Winfrey. Holy crap.

No guests are ever worth this. Thank god they're gone, so that now i can curse their souls into oblivion in peace.

I will now undress. I will put away this outfit with meticulous care, following all the crease lines along the pretty tassels to perfection. Afterwards I shall don old shorts and a grungy T-shirt, find an isolated corner, and then I will sit and scream for a while, until I'm convinced of my own return to sanity.

Trisha

Chocolate Cake

ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, today i will be behaving very self-indulgently at the nearest pastry shop. just to prove to myself that the TOTALLY mind-blowing experience i am about to have is really really real, i'm putting up my cake
wish-list here. hee hee.


trisha

Happy Sun Colours

Ohmigod what a great day!!!!!!!! but lemme explain........this is SUPPOSED to be my online journal, when all's said and done............

i finally got to sleep late as its an "official" holiday. when i woke up, i had a lazy and prolonged bath, then read the latest Artemis novel in PDF form before getting a call inviting me to get downstairs to the para park and get colour dunked.

i duly obliged. since i was late (so what's new) i was just in time to get an entire bucket of colour water splashed on my head by my (loving) para friends. a bandanna and old clothes that i've lately taken to sleeping in couldn't save me from looking like a complete barbarian.LOL i know i scared my mother when i came back up. she thought i'd come from the local youth club to ask for donations.

anyway after we finished slapping water and colors around, taking cool pictures and baking ourselves in the sun (one of us spread himself out on the park bench and declared his intention to see if permanent colour could be genetically passed on to his descendants) we lazed around for a while (as for me, for the first time in a very long while i took a turn on the swings, bringing memories and nausea rushing back in equal proportions).

a friend read my palm. according to him, i have three life lines, two of which project my early death. the third is long but dependent on following a life-pattern that both of us are clueless about. my education/career line is well-developed, i'm going to have an attractive partner, and i have bad luck in trivial affairs.

although i didn't need an amateur fortune-telling yogic to realize the truth of that last bit about bad luck.

anyway i had a fun day so far. judging by moments spent with this particular group of friends, it ranks right up there with the new year's rooftop party, the hangout session on the day of saraswati puja and the jam sessions at akash-da's house. those
in-depth chats on emo/rock music, sci-fi literature and careertalk in the evenings all last year remain unparalleled, though.

let's see what the evening brings.

anyway, this last bit is not for general consumption. for my CLOSE friends -- i mean ani, fido, shoili di, nilaj -- Happy Holi!!!!! included in these wishes are of course suki di, arnab da, akash da, titan, ankana, titas, debu, rimi di, sourav, shanky, debatri, kaustav, arnab (barat), srijita, and my baby cousin sister brinda. love y'all.....be happy, you guys!!!

trisha
21/3/2008

Happy Birthday Suki Di

dear suki di

a million apologies for my cluelessness in forgetting your birthday. anyway.........i have a present for you that is actually a combination of two of my favorite things- writing and chocolate. and here it is -- i call it



THE RISING OF THE CAKE-PART-I



The girl paused momentarily, torn by doubts. Already she was a heroine, having saved the day from being a catastrophe of epic proportions - death by fire must be terrible, she thought. Then she took a deep breath, and made up her mind. Closing her eyes, she lifted the ladle and added just the lightest trace of brandy to the baking garnish on the stove before her.

The redolent fragrance of eternally unwashed socks drifted through the kitchen. The syrup must have arrived then, borne by the local delivery boy(? old man by now) whose breath must surely be one of the first warning signs of armageddon. Ushering him out, she turned back to her first love, the oven. The cake had risen.

Two hours later, the cake stood, imposing as a behemoth at bay, towering on the dining table. Like all great kings, it was grand and intimidating in its power on the outside. Inside, however, it was just a mushy, gooey, sticky core of blissful indulgence.

The base was a solid yet crusty platter of mocha biscuit. The lower foundations of the cake were made of sweet, crumble-as-you-touch classic brown walnut cake, encrusted with sizeable chunks of milk-and-cherry chocolate. The second layer, tapering to the third on top, was a soft creamy layer of soft coffee chocolate, the lightest and cloudiest of milk white frothy cream, and a dash-just a dash-of freezing cold blackcurrant syrup, running like a vapour trail through the whole layer. This layer was seasoned with a sprinkling of chocolate chips and the faintest whiff of brandy that hovered only at the surface and disappeared as you sank into the heavenly chocolate bliss of it all.

But the topmost layer-that was literally the royal jewel in the crown. Set like a chocolate boat atop this delicious edifice, it was a large-ish shallow cup made of chocolate biscuit wafer, and swimming with chocolate syrup. Gently floating in the middle was a cake island, made up of delicate-looking yet tough petals of black bitter chocolate, which surrounded a cup-sized flower. The gently placed core was a small ball of pure, sweet chocolate rolled around a cherry, and encrusted in a coral shaped layer of a mixture of coffee wafer, chocolate syrup, vanilla frosting, and a single candied rose-leaf. The very slight waves of the pool of chocolate syrup gave it a look of a chocolate island pleased with itself, and at peace with the world.

The heroine looked on proudly, the light of love and joy in her eyes as her creation rested in a magnificient pose on the table. Suddenly, as she looked down to wipe the last of the tasting spoons, still lightly smeared with melted milk chocolate, on her apron, the door burst open with a thud. She wheeled around with a sharp cry of alarm to face three large men wearing balaclavas framed in her doorway. Her glance fell on the foremost of them, whose t-shirt bore the legend MMU. Milkshake Movement Underground. Oh god............

With a slow dawning of horror, she realized the truth. These men-these men must have heard of her cake somehow and come to plunder it. With a faint gasp of terror, she moved bravely in front of the chocolate cake, brandishing her still creamy ladle, ready to risk her all to protect the cake she loved................



FIND OUT THE REST OF THE STORY NEXT WEEK, IN "THE RISING OF THE CHOCOLATE CAKE-PART-II"

P.S-if you find this thrilling story delicious (or otherwise)please leave a comment. i'll use your suggestions and even reply if i feel like it.

MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY, SUKI DI!! THE FORCE OF THE CHOCOLATE IS WITH YOU......



trisha

dark horse underground

and yet another dark horse from these literary stables....it's catching up fast


don't you remember you left me alone waiting
don't you recall you never came back to me
don't you worry i'm happier without you anyway
don't you know that finally i've begun to see

wish for the stars and all you get is tears
smile through the rain and you hold the world in your hands
wait for a miracle and the world tries to break you
fight your way up; it's the only life you'll ever understand

people call you sad, but you never gave up smiling
your family is your heart and they think you're crazy
you fell on your knees but you always kept on trying
how am i going to live, live without you, baby

you drew a summer dream in chalk on the pavement
you sang in the street when you thought no-one was watching
you danced blindfolded with two left feet
you stared at the moon and then i knew you were dreaming

who asked you to be a hero
who asked you to die this way
you said you'd stay forever
but you left me anyway

miss you, hate you,can't make up my mind
wasn't it enough you're gone without turning me blind?
not enough that i've buried my heart with you
not enough that it seems i'll never forget you?


trisha

HeadCase Extraordinaire

and another attempt that kind of meandered off the first time.....let me know what y'all think!




NINTH SIGHT

one more time please let me breathe
one last time, how can you not see
see me, see you, see how we feel
for the first time i can see

i was holding back for far too long
i'm trying to believe that this is where i belong
it's hard to know what's right, hard to say it's wrong
life's a bitch, trust no-one, that's why i wrote this song

tired of hearing the things you always knew but never talked about
and then understanding your nightmares that you're never without
the musical explosion overtakes you before you can get out
and that's before you get angry and start to scream and shout

you break the rules, break the walls, break your own mind
hate yourself, hate everyone else who ever walked the line
hate that you loved, loved where now you can't stop hating
love that you're free to hate, then you can start forgetting

forget the laughter, forget the pain
forget the way he left you feeling like rain
forget the reasons you counted at night
forget that it was love at ninth sight

can i dance with you, you're a king without a crown
trying to fly but you can't lift off the ground
i'm sorry but not even for you will i clip my wings
we love, we fly, but only one of us will sing


trisha

Fate

FATE



my latest stab at writing. please comment



live in peace, die in war, dance in the sunshine
hold hands with fate in the garden of death
bring god and satan out of your own mind
try to smile, can't stop crying with every breath

you walk with misfortune down a lonely street
she looks kind and gentle but very very sad
thorns in her hair, blood on her feet
she wears her sorrow proudly like a badge

sing at midnight, and memory watches you
leaning lazily against a moonbeam
he laughs and mocks your happy sleeping hours
and he tells you that joy is just a dream

you laugh and you cry and you have to decide
which one of them fills your heart more
you cry when you're awake and you smile in your dreams
unhappiness - what is it good for?

so you say that you're happy
and by now you should know
what makes you the way you are
today's going to be sunny
and by now you should know
that your clouds are no closer than your star

trisha