21 and grumpy.

I can officially get married now. Sign up for my own mobile line. I can’t think of a spectacular introduction to my passage into adulthood.

But as expected, I wanted my 21st either high key or low key. Last year, I was adamant about spending my birthday overseas ( by myself ), well I did. India wasn’t planned at all. It just came up in December.

But thanks for all the phone calls, messages and comments. It didn’t go as low key as I wished it to be. My internship buddy, this Jap girl – got me a cake on last Friday night at her farewell party and surprised me with it. Sweet of her, but thoroughly unnecessary. I would have loved a quieter birthday. Then my roommate got me flowers and an earring box from Jaipur. Saturday night was spent at a Chinese restaurant with the Singapore Club Delhi. I sat at the same table with a lovely elderly couple who turned out to be the High Commissioner and his wife to Delhi. Also went to a fair which was interesting with this American lady whom I met on an internet forum. The rellies called me on my birthday. Then my Mom told me today, that they were talking about my going to clubs. I don’t know who to be annoyed at – at her for being prickled by it, or the rellies who unwittingly perpetuate gossip.

But I’m too tired to give a fuck. Going to clubs don’t make you bad, though I’d be the first one to admit that I’m not your model-church going kid like most of the family is, I never claimed to be. Of course, that hardly makes me benchmark wild child. I can hear some of my friends laughing at this.

I detest it tremendously when people make assumptions. But other than to let them know their assumptions suck and lack a substantial bit of accuracy, you can’t do much about it. Sometimes living your life with a certain degree of ambivalent callousness especially towards environmental hazards ( talking about people specifically) is necessary to preserve my sanity.

Oh, one of my whom I don’t know personally colleagues got killed in a car accident when a truck carrying bricks smashed into her car. Because I don’t know her, grief is beyond me. What gets to me is that, while I ride rickshaws ( a necessary mode of transport here, I only use the cars if the company cabs picks me up from work and sends me home you can’t hail cabs off roads here), I have developed a false sense of invincibility that has been shattered just like that. The drivers here on the road are absolutely reckless. But then you gradually got used to that after the initial trauma for cars cutting in and out without warning. You thought maybe it’s the way its like here and that most rickshaw drivers have mastered the art of dodging and bring you to your destination safely.

Well, it’s not true. I’m scared shitless right now. Also, on Sunday, there was a bomb scare in one of the malls. These couple days, my moods have taken a downswing. I’m enjoying India – but I’m also irritable, slightly depressed and would take a swing at one or two of flat mates given the chance. The left the dirty dishes again. What is this? Cockcroach Charity. They also broke my eggs, used my rice (without asking), and dumped my new shaker of salt in their soup by mistake but have not volunteered to buy a new one to replace it.

The roommate is the slight saving grace in my living conditions.

At work - the shit has hit the fan.

I think its one of those days, where I'm making nails scratching on blackboards are glorious melody.