messy intern - I

Being in the third year (fifth semester) of my annoyingly prolonged Diploma in Jewellery Design and Manufacturing Technology we are expected to do our internship. All of my senior batches had done theirs at SEEPZ, since my renowned Institute has been built by the GJEPC, and we were expected to do the same.

The internship was something I was most looking forward to, since I decided upon this course, and I was very, very determined to do it in Italty. I had even started studying the language by myself. My game plan: I would consistently be at the top of my class in every aspect, get amazing recommendations, and be wanted at a firm like Buccellati, for my brilliant designs. Work hard, I did. I even topped my class for the first two semesters, and in all honesty, it seemed like a cake walk. Especially my second semester. The course started becoming easier, and less challenging. We eventually realised that there was some rift between the different departments, and for most parts, the employers of most of my seniors felt that they were not upto the mark. I'll avoid too much detail when it comes to this, but I'll try and show you how bad the scenario had gotten: we spent days, no wait months, to be honest almost two whole semesters without a decent teacher for Design. We spent days being pushed from one room to another only to sit and watch movies on our laptops, or find other ways to entertain ourselves.

I'll still take the due credit for not making Italy work out. If I would have tried harder, and not scattered my attention so I could find life a little more challenging, I could have made it work. Moving on, my dear Vartika came into my life, and with our super obsession with Farah Khan, we single-minded-ly worked towards getting her attention. Get her attention we did, thank you twitter, and we spent a good two months getting a date from the busy little woman for our interviews. We spent a good 15 days eating, breathing & sleeping design. And finally our interviews got fixed, and then they got postponed, and then they got fixed, and then postponed, and you'd think we'd give up, but no... We kept pushing, we'd stalk the woman, not that she put much efforts into making her whereabouts too private, and then we found out that she was going to be at our prestigious institute as a judge for some competition. We took that as our only chance, and landed up there half prepared. Obviously enough, that did not go down too well, and she decided it was enough time to judge our capabilities. She pseudo-offered us positions for sales at her new store in Delhi, but we both knew it would never be worth it.

We were already super late with our internship, and now we had nothing with us. Anyway, our institute helped us score our internships at the best organisation at SEEPZ. This meant export market. Interest levels: -7.

Either ways, I (I'll get to first person now on, coz I think we both had different experiences) decided to take as much as I could from this, and enjoy it while it would last...

the news

So, post my blog entry Friday, life has been quite eventful. Apartment and I went clubbing to a place called Trist (and no, don’t get excited, it is the same place that was once Ra, then Play, then Ra Again, and now Trist. And I might even have missed a few name/owner changes in the middle). Not that this is a Mumbai club review blog, but I’ll honour you with my opinion anyway – don’t waste your time. The more clubs I see, the more I end up loving Polly Esters. I shit you not it was only children! I wonder how much the place must pay the cops to keep them out, especially with the newly popularised 25-year drinking age limit.


Anyway, so we're all dolled up, and thankfully the Boy decides to come along, and it's an all apartment thing (sans Sneha, of course), and it is soo close to being a tra la la evening. We reach the place, and Boy is on his fancy phone, and finally he says is, "So guys, I got accepted into Carnegie Mellon!!!" My heart does this excited victory dance and I'm dying to get my chance to hug him very patiently till Ronak asks, "So when will you have to go..?" Boy says, "...early August probably..." My heart stops as my brain does this quick calculation estimating the time we have left together as a little over a month... digesting... digesting... digesting... I hug him, and he sees the half-smile on my face.


Now don't get me wrong, I'm not the extremely sticky and annoying kind of girlfriends, and I'm soo happy for him! So, so, so happy! But one month?! I wanted to kick myself. The poor boy had been telling me over and over that we hadn't been spending enough time, and I kept ignoring it. For some lame-arse reason, I was under the impression that he would only be leaving in December.  Man, did I want to kick myself hard. My being a little concerned is valid, me thinks. It is going to be for a minimum of 5 years. 5 years, goddamit!


Here is what makes it worse. Vartika (one of my closest friends from Jewellery school) has also left me, my dear Ronan (my fav Bene Israeli boy) will be leaving me on the 4th, and now the boy has decided to leave too. 
Yep, the story of my life... 


If any of you - Ronan, Vert or Boy read this, know that I am extremely jubilant that you guys are going on to expand the horizons of what life has to offer you, and I hope to dear God that you make the best of it. Nonetheless, you shall be missed dearly. 

what I was born for

What exactly happens at the open door of one's local train? I'll try and explain to those of you who have forgotten to enjoy such minimalistic aspects of life.

See, my day, pretty much starts and ends with a train ride. The morning one - to where my day is to take me to – is hustled, crowded, hot, and hurried, but the one on my way back… a peaceful, observable, coloured and cool one. But one common thing through both, is Me time; one for planning my day, the other for letting my “lessons of the day” settle down in my tiny brain (of which I apparently only use no more than 1% - wtf?!).

Now, I’ve not always been a train person, in fact up until recent times, I’ve been a BEST person, and yes, this blog was very near to being titled “the open window of my BEST bus”, but I think the train aspect makes it more alluring in that sense (*cough*Slumdog Millionaire*cough*), especially to my not-Indian readers. Either way, I have always been a strong supporter of public transport – I heard that groan. Fine, I won’t go on a social responsibility tangent now, I’ll let your conscience do that bit for you, but this again brings me not having an exact decided topic for this post. *Yawn* Perhaps, I will blame sleeplessness.

I’ll tell you a little about the middle part of my day: Let’s begin with establishing the fact that one of my biggest fears ever, EVER, is public speaking. Now, going to Malaysia for VCon kind of helped me, but I haven’t really tested myself to an extent to get the disappearance of my fear stamped. So at the Kandivali system today, Rajesh asked me to go up and do the ground rules (I’ll go into the details of this soon), which basically involved me doing a 3 – minute talk in front of a good 50 people – WITHOUT A PAPER!

Now, I politely refused, and eventually struggled out of it, and was quite content with myself. Let’s just say that the presentation itself was near brilliant, and my motivation level to speak on stage rose. Rajesh, being a good upline like he is, struck my hot-iron of a brain to be moulded into agreeing to give a whole 45 minute – long presentation, next Wednesday, in front of a similar crowd.

Let’s just say I’ve only been listening to motivational songs ever since. So, yeah… Do wish me luck for the 29^th, and prey I kick arse.

I shall be off now, watch the video for Firework by Kate Perry for extra dum.

Allah hafiz, amigos! 

another start

So, this must be at least my 53rd blog, and guess what, 53 happens to be my lucky number! So yes, I will stick to this one. Now, you might wonder why this one is more special than the other 52, well... Umm... I'll get to that one later.


I was trying to be all creative, and come up with a nice fancy-shmancy title for this one (I even googled {how does my computer dictionary not yet recognise "googled" as a word?}"creative blog titles"), and I decided to ask the Boy for ideas. 


The Boy obviously asked me, "Well, what is it about..?" And there I was left with two questions, in stead of one. So, two whole minutes of deep thinking, and I proudly say, "Life, it is about life..."


See, I tried to be all cool and narrow it down to one aspect of my lovely, uber-interesting life, but it brought me to the realisation that it was EVERYTHING that made my life what it is. Plus picking one aspect of my life would be a terrible idea for the following reasons:

1. It would be highly unfair to the other aspects of my life
2. I would be at higher risk of running out of things to write about (oh pshhh, yes, you're that profound writer who could never, ever run out of things to write about, well, forgive me, I'm not)
3. I would be limiting my literary skills for no apparent reason
4. You, my beloved followers, would miss out on the other wonderful aspects of my life!

So yes, like every other mundane blog (now, don't take that personally), mine too, is about good ol' Life.


Welcome!


P.S. is there a way to customise my dictionary to UK English as opposed to US whatever-their-language-is-called..?