Category: Creations of a weird girl

Wanna read some fantasies and fan-fiction….you’re at the right place.

THE BOOK OF 101 EXCUSES!

Creations of a weird girl

Let me ask you a question. Do you have friends? Do you really? Are the number of friends you can call up at midnight with any kind of godforsaken gibberish to spill out, be counted on the fingers of a single hand? Most likely, yes. Does that surprise you?

I wake up pretty late in the morning to find my elder sister ecstatic with the news that in lieu of some special offer, movie tickets are available at a very basic rate. Her chirpy energy soon rubs off on me and I end up dialing all the contacts, that have been safely stored into the trust-worthy memory card of my mobile phone and pester them with requests of watching a movie together, in vain.

Excuse #1: I don’t think my mother will reciprocate the idea of going to a movie a day before the result for our examination is out. 

MY REASONING:  Well, in all probability, your parents are not going to be impressed by your performance and in turn you will be grounded thereafter. No time to watch a flick then, is there?

RESULT: A quick chukle and the sound of the receiver being jammed swiftly.

 

Excuse #2: You know I don’t really like to watch movies. I’ll be asleep by the time they turn the lights back on for the intermission.

MY REASONING: Well, no use arguing there. But I think you are missing one hell of an opportunity to spend time with the ever-entertaining “me”.

RESULT: No further contact until dawn. No movie theater operates at that odd hour. 

 

Excuse#3: I’ve already bought the tickets to the movie that I will be cherishing in the comfortable company of my family.

MY REASONING: Let’s go watch a different flick.

RESULT: Out-right rejection to the face, sans even a tiny glimpse of sympathy (for lack of a better word).

 

Excuse #4: I’ve already seen the said movie.

MY REASONING: None whatsoever.

RESULT: I feel unrightfully betrayed at not being told or rather invited to join her. Make sure to avoid any friendly contact for atleast a couple of days. Fail miserably at it, cave into sending hilarious memes to the aforesaid ‘friend’.

 

The others failed to pick up their phones, to which, at not-such-annoying-times, they cling onto as dearly as an old unhealthy man clings onto his pacemaker. Also, complete and utter failure to return those missed calls or even acknowledge receiving such ‘interruptions’ from me, sadden me. Or do they?

I count on my fingers, checking people off an imaginary check-list to ensure I had not left anyone undisturbed. Feeling quite satisfied with the number of people in whose sweet-moving-lives I had created temporary ripples, I climb onto my bed, get under the covers and begin talking to my best friend, who unfortunately could not escape my wicked cluthes- the book in my hand.

 

Is Excessive Irritation A Good Enough Cause For Murder? I Guess Not.

Creations of a weird girl

“Good neighbors come in all colours,

Black, red, yellow and green.

Though their outsides may look diff-er-rent,

But they belong to the family of man.”

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said to be true of my neighbors. Okay fine, they do ‘belong to the family of man’, but not a very civilised one, that is.

Imagine the (true) scenario, you are struggling with a trigonometry problem for hours, and when you are just about to get the answer, a high-pitched, ear-slicing   voice originating from a very coarse throat wrecks havoc on your attention span and yet again, you miss getting the correct solution by a hair’s breadth.

Or imagine reading a book in your leisure time. The book is a suspense-thriller and you are nearing the end of the book. Anxiously flipping the pages with your sticky index finger. What you require right now is eerie silence for just a few more minutes, and guess what, the boy-next-door , in the absence of his parents, had cracked up the volume of his speaker, which frankly burst out with the most pathetic songs ever composed, to it’s fullest. And if this were not enough, he decides to do karaoke with his harsh, utterly disturbing voice.

Or imagine having guests over, to whom you want to convey the most elite impression and they end up asking you about the strange rebellious voices he hears in his room, till late at night. Your head bows down in embarrassment and you mutter curse words under your breath.

They say anger management lessons and meditation can help calm one’s nerves. I would really like to give them a try, because my neighbors insist on getting on my nerves ever-single-day.

It is not as of they are very friendly people who like socializing and can’t help being rowdy and unreasonably loud. Instead, they are the snobbish ones who don’t even respond to a kindly greeting. So far, I have not found the tiniest reason to like them, but on the contrary, I’ve found many to despise them.

Sometimes, out of pure irritation I scream at them, but they hardly take notice of it. Other times, I’ve tried turning the radio volume up, but to no effect.

Can I slip notes under the door? Or leave anonymous post-its on their front door? Or should I gather up the courage and sensibility to confront them about it? Nothing, I can do exactly nothing because in my mother’s words,” We ought to be good, sophisticated and understanding neighbours”.

To The Man Who Did Not Take My Word For Gospel.

Creations of a weird girl

Recently I was at the passport office well you know, for getting my passport issued and this really humourous/crazy thing happened.

My father and I had been waiting for our turn while sitting on really lifeless steel chairs. That is when a really quirky character caught my eye- she was a young 20 year old girl, who had her hair tied up in a messy bun and her eyes gleamed behind a pair of spectacles. Her outfit told me that she was fashion consious. But the oddity that attracted my attention to her  was her immense restlessness. It seemed as if she was extremely uncomfortable . Her head cocked to one side and her neck jerked quite a few times. I know some people have a nervous tick and thus, they shake their feet/leg continuously, but in this case, she was practically shaking the entire bench along with her. This irritated me on so many levels, that I cannot even begin to describe. I continued observing her till my name was called out by the serious-looking-man behind the counter, waiting impatiently to get over with his problem, that had taken a form similar to me.

I went over to the counter and after all the formalities, the serious-looking-man asked for the photocopies of the stuff that were needed, which included a photocopy of my mother’s Aadhar card. And this is how the conversation went.

SERIOUS-LOOKING-MAN ( feeling annoyed ):    I asked for your mother’s Aadhar card. You have given me yours. Where is your mother’s?

ME ( feeling intimidated ):.   Um..I think it there in the stack of papers I handed over to you.

SERIOUS-LOOKING-MAN  ( feeling more annoyed):   No! It’s not here. Will you get the photocopy right now?

ME.  ( feeling pretty sure that I submitted it ):     It is right there, the last page that I stapled to my application. It is my mother’s.

SERIOUS-LOOKING-MAN  ( feeling extremely annoyed ):.    This is your Aadhar card’s photocopy. I want your mother’s. Kindly get it.

ME:     It’s right there!

SERIOUS-LOOKING-MAN  (now infuriated):   There take your papers and show it to me.

 

I took the papers, took out the one to which I had been referring to since ages and shoved it to his face. The man then takes a closer look and says,

“Ah..How am I supposed to know you look so similar to your mother. There is hardly any difference.”

On hearing this, my father burst out laughing and I am completely dazed at the attitude of the man. Firstly, my mother and I am quite distinguishable from each other and secondly, the man did not apologise for his idiocy and for wasting my time.

  •  When I finally turned around to leave the counter, my eyes searched for the quirky young girl. But alas, the foolish man had not only irritated me to death but also made me lose my one good shot at stalking a “weird” stranger.