List of sites which have lists

Since I am a list maniac I decided that my blog should have a list of websites that have lists.

1. Mental_Floss

 Let me tell you that I absolutely adore Mental floss.  They have been around for a very long time now. I don't subcribe to the magazine which started in 2001, but I am a regular at the site. Apart from lists like 11 dog breeds that no longer exist and 30 thing sturning 30 this year, they have a lot of fun articles, facts and trivia. And they research on and answer user questions. Anyone can submit a question to them! So over all it's a pretty good to place to get new trivia without feeling like you're being lectured.

2. Buzzfeed

I stalk their facebook page for new stuff. I literally go through  their whole feed and almost always end of reading most of their articles. All articles are in list format, and each point is accompanied with a pic of a GIF or a video.  Now, buzzfeed does not have original content. They collect viral content from stumbleupon, youtube, reddit and other places and compile them and then they post it. All their posts or feeds are collected from all over the web. The BuzzFeed homepage consists of a time-sequential list of posts from users and staff members.They encourage community posts and you can vote for your favourites . I have discovered so many recipes, projects, people and interesting information through buzzfeed that now I can't imagine not using it.

Check their    15 absurd fashion predictions and 27 things every parent does and you too will be clicking on all their posts like I do.

3.  List25

I came across this site by accident. I was going through some videos on youtube and found a video by them. I am so glad I did.  The site basically compile lesser-known intriguing information on a variety of subjects. They have incredible lists like 25 bizzare lawsuits you won't believe are real and 25 gift ideas for cat lovers. I could spend hours of my free time there. The design and interface is clean and it's very easy to navigate.

4.  Book Riot

This one has a niche audience. They are all about book reviews, writing and book related articles, and ofcourse book-related lists. It's a little difficult to find their lists but since I am a fan I look for them anyway. They have this feature calledcritical linking, which is their daily round up of bookish lists. Once you scroll down their feed, it's easy to spot. They do have other lists, here and there and you will eventually find them if you stick around. I would recommend it to all book lovers AND aspiring writers. 

 And Now  the mother of all list websites!

5.  Listverse

 

List maniacs will go crazy on this site! They have all kinds of lists, categories for lists and it's almost endless. Like mental_floss it's a site for trivia and facts on all topics. The lists you will find here are more diverse. You can spend hours and hours exploring all the lists they have. It is after all the original top 10 list place and has been featured on BBC Radio, Radio Scotland, Alabama Radio, BBC Television World News International, PBS, and in the New York Times. Very swag.

While writing this post I discovered a site for bucket lists; where you can track your bucket lists and connect with like minded people. I registered instantly, though have not started using it. 

P. S: ohyemzee so many lists!

Not mine. Not ever again

One

My words are not my words
anymore.
I give them up.
I can't claim them to be mine
MINE, MINE, MINE.

Were my words ever enough?
My words. 
I remove the prefix now.
Words.

Words flow...
like a river?
Why did I think of a river?
Is there no other analogy?

My words used to be mine.
Never touching brilliance
Mediocrity
Reminding me everyday.

I see brilliance around me;
knowing that I cannot even
touch it.

I scared of revealing
all that I feel. 

I scared of dark thoughts.

I give up my claim.

No longer mine.
Just words. 
~Anjee, Nov 2013

This is the first poem I wrote in my series Mid Carnival of Woe. I wrote the series within a day or two. Eight poems in two nights to be precise. 

Hear me out, will you?

So I am in my room drinking ( I have a secret stash of Chivas Regal. Don't ask me how.) and writing shit when I realise that I feel like smoking. ( I also have a seceret stash of ciggys though I am not a smoker.)

So I go to the bathroom and smoke and since I was also having chocolate I am already a bit high. So I started thinking about meta writing. Is that even a thing? Must be! So I was thinking of the whole process of writing ( more precisely blogging ) and it came down to one thing. No matter what someone claims blogging can't be personal. It never is. We all do it for an audience. I mean, if we wanted it to be personal we would write an effing diary or something.

But I feel even personal diaries ain't personal. There is a desire (even a tiny little one) in all of to be heard. So there this wish, that maybe just maybe someone will be sneaky and read our thoughts. And maybe just a few lines written specifically for an audience, will creep in. 

I want to be read. Even though writing is a very personal thing for me; when I write for my blog I want an audience. 

It's all about puttting forward your opinion.

Hey world I exist and this is what I think! 

The point is that no one cares a damn. Unless you're famous. Or in Bollywood. Then you can say shit and everyone cares. So you get down to your knees   ( Why would you do that? Why did I write that? I hope I am not high enough to write shit because I know I will post this anyway.)

No doubt blogging helps you improve as a writer ( in a bid to be read you try to improve your style etc etc ) 

How do you people do it? See a dream, wake up and write it down. If I remember to write mine down will I get a bestseller?

Sorry for the tangent. (Please remember that I am downing expensive whiskey like I would down cheap vodka. You're supposed to savour these things but I am not. Sue me. )

Am I trying to appeal to a wider audience? I don't know yet. What I do know is I am trying to improve as a writer. (Hope that works soon. )

I need to avoid using parentheses ( I always called them brackets) but I seem to love them. I need to be more creative. I need to give it more time. I need to do so many things. 

But right now I need to tell myself-"Slow down baby, you're no waterfall" 

P. S: I'm too high to do anymore meta thinking. kthnxbai

The first thought

A poem within me.

Smiling, yearning,

crying.

Passionate,

dead, dull

beautiful.

Sweet darkness of my own,

give light to my poem,

my own.

Teardrops like rain,

falling.

Poem, you’re beautiful,

I exist in you.

familiar face,

déjà vu.

Poem, I cry for you.

~26.03.09

Ours is not a mere paragraph; a short story or novel. Ours is an infinity of words.

Did you know that

 when I share  love quotes

 with you,  I mean them?

 I may not have written them

 but I relate to every word.

 I wish you were the kind

 to get poetry, I wish you

 loved poetry.

Who would marvel over Eliot

 and Kafka and Murakami and

O’Henry and Shakespeare and

Pablo Neruda and obscure

writers who touch me with their words.

I know everyone is not

wired the same;

and there are so many things

we do have in common;

and there are so many things

I don't get about you ;

and there are so many other things

about me that you DO get.

Yet I crave for this too.

Because words, simply put;

are beautiful, in every possible way.

 And I don't know if you know

 the nuance that separates

always from "Always".

Or that gibberish also has meaning.

And that "lost in translation" is a real thing.

 And I don’t say it but wish

 you understood when I make

literature references.

Or that I refrain from making them

coz it's too difficult to explain the context.

 And that by the time I do explain,

the spontaneity of saying it gets lost.

I will always have other people

to talk poetry but

sometimes I wish I could talk about them

with you too.

Because I want to be able to

talk about everything with you.

We are not made of atoms;

 whatever science claims.

We are made of stories.

That is NOT a romantic notion.

 And I guess being practical

and not caring for romance

is a facade for the world.

I have never been a cynic.

And I still wish that flowers never die.

And I laugh when I say this

and I hate to admit

that I am, after all

a romantic.

And if you're my Fitzwilliam

and I  your Elizabeth;

we still don’t have

our very own dance yet.

And when I found you, I knew

you were my Flynn, Ron and Darcy

all rolled into one.

But I wish I could tell you that.

One day I will; and if you're listening

you will hear me whisper:

Will you be Jim to my Della?

 (and I will be hoping that you say “Always.” )

~Anjee Bhatia

27^th November 2013

Dedicated to A, my poetic license. 

Dear whoever is reading this

I have been thinking of writing letters. Not your everyday kind. These will be special letters. To be written and sealed and opened after a long long time.

I wrote one in 2011. To myself. To the me of 2015.

I want to write some more. To the past me. To the me of 2003. My teenage self. To the me of 2006. My not so sweet sixteen. To tell them that I am fine. I am okay. 

You know, I am glad I wasn't always confident. I am glad I did experience low self esteem. For I know now how it feels to gain confidence. How it feels to give yourself worth. I have known it and I don't want to forget. But this is something you don't set reminders for. This is personal. This is you. So the next best thing is writing to yourself.

I want to write to my daughters too. To tell them they are beautiful. To teach them what I know, now. As a twenty something. 

I want to write to A. And make him read it 10 years later. 10 years is a long time. It's long enough to forget. And some things will be remembered and relived.

And I want to write another letter. To my family and friends. To be opened after I die. I don't know want I want to write in that. But I do know that I will write that letter, someday.

There are so many letters I could write and seal. Some for a purpose. Some for the sake of writing. Some to remind everyone years and years later that long ago people used to write letters. 


I will have letters for the future. I just wish someone would write me letters to read now. 


With loads of love
as Always
me

Note to self: Not to be forgotten.

I read something today. It has inspired me to lead life on my own terms.  It was a list of 25 things you don't need to justify to others. Many times we feel the need to justify our life to others. But do you really need to? It was a wake up call. I need to be happy. And therefore I need to do stuff that makes me happy.

Unless I take a step towards my dream it won't get fulfilled on it's own. I can't sit around waiting for it to happen.

So there. Lesson learnt. I hope I don't forget it. Someone please keep reminding me. I am forgetful. 

More people needed. More words needed.

What happens when you become so attached to a character you create that you don't want to share it with the world? What happens when that fictional person is an anchor in your world of words?  A sort of sanctuary? Something that helps you believe you can create more. That you can be better. That no matter what happens, that baby step you took will always be there with you. To guide you through every step you take. 

I wanted to write Anushka's story since I was 14. That time I didn't have the skill or imagination or even intelligence to write it. I started writing it when I was 19; when I had finally decided that writing was my calling. I had by then realised that writing not just fun and games to me. I definitely wanted to be a published author.  After that I took it  very seriously. And started writing. College and studies came in between. But I wrote. I was not disciplined. Still I wrote. And on an impulse send it off to an nondescript publisher. They never got back to me. Rejection hurt me. But I saw where I was lacking. So I rewrote some portions. This time choosing my words even more carefully. 

When I was satisfied I showed it to a few friends. For the first time, someone other than me read it. ( I am not counting that publisher.) And they liked it. I was relieved. But this time, I am not ready to send it to publishers. I want to be ready. Soon. Pretty soon. 

I know I still have a lot to learn. But I also  know that I have it in me. Even if I am not 'there' yet. I know can  reach there. I just have to look back at Anushka, to be sure. 

J: So J

Jealousy is  an inevitable sentiment in any relationship. It’s funny when your friends get jealous if they see you close to other people. It’s cute when your boyfriend is jealous when you talk too much about this cool guy who happens to be a friend. But when jealousy turns into possessiveness, it’s time to see red.

There is a very thin line between being possessive and being jealous. Many a times,  it is not apparent that  the line has been crossed. Possessiveness sometimes translates to having the desire to control the other person’s action and the need to dominate. Often it is the result of deep-rooted chauvinism .

Possessiveness is something I cannot tolerate.  No one can control my actions, no matter how much he or she loves me. Possessiveness is not a sign of love. It’s a sign of a desire to own someone. In a romantic relationship, one partner may show a desire to decide what their partner wears, a desire to know where their partner is going, who he or she is meeting; there is a need to know what their partner is doing at every minute. In extreme cases, there is a desire to dictate what one’s partner should do; all the time.

In many cases both partners are possessive. In most cases(here I am citing straight relationships) the male is possessive about his partner. His partner may not have male associates, friends; his partner may not decide what to wear or where to go on her own. In such cases of extreme possessiveness violence is also involved. Obviously, such relationships are unhealthy.

In cases of parent-child relationships if parents are too possessive of their children; it will hinder their personal growth as an individual. After a certain age it is necessary for children to learn to make their own decisions. If they are not allowed to do so,  it will lead to clingyness and unhealthy dependency. Such dependency will again deter the person from being able to move on and learn to live if and when their parents expire.  Such people fail to have normal relationships with other people. They also may need counseling or psychological help.

Jealousy on the other hand, does not do much harm. Unless ofcourse it’s envy. The green eyed monster. Though envy is a synonym of jealousy, it is a more intense emotion. Envy. So many things have been written about envy. So many poems and plays are based on this emotion. Woman are said to have mastered the art of being envious. A very stereotypical view, I must add. It’s a lot of things. Resent. Spite. Even hatred. Jealousy seems, less complicated, less harmful. 

Semantics define jealousy as the base emotion which may give birth to possessiveness and envy. Its like a river with two distributaries.

It's fascinating that one emotion can imply so many different things.  They have different undertones at different times they are used. Emotions are complicated, ain't they? And language is an amazing thing. 

H: How, just how...

How does one know what is worth writing and what is not? How do I know what my words will turn out to be when I finish spewing them? How will I know if all is this is nothing? I won't. Until I write it. When I start writing something I don't know how it will turn out to be.

"Writers spend years rearranging 26 letters of the alphabet," novelist Richard Price had once said. I think that's a fascinating concept. What is writing but the rearranging of alphabets and words; playing around with them; till they start to sound as if they fit together.

 Author Jerry Pinto came to our college today to talk about his new book. This is his first novel and the first story he wanted to tell. And he had written 26 drafts for it. I just manage to write one draft and I feel drained. I feel as if I have no other way of telling the story.


There is so much I need to learn about the craft of telling a story. They say everyone should know their customer. I don't think I know who my reader will be. I always thought I write best when I write for myself. But I need readers too. Is it a mix of writing for myself and also knowing what kind of readers will read me? Food for thought for me, now.

How does one know what works and what does not? Do I just keep writing and leave the figuring out for later?

I have so many questions now. And I am not afraid to say that don't have the answer. Yet.

The a-z guide

I am going to give myself a blogging challenge. It's a 26 day challenge. Ya, I know the normal trend is 30 days but I dont like trends. Here are the rules. I write everyday for 26 days but each day I start my post with a new alphabet. So the first day I start my post with 'A' and the second day I start with 'B' and so on; till I reach 'Z' 

Starting tomorrow with A.

P.S: Writing continuously for 26 days seems tough already. But it's a challenge. Yo!

First priority

I am playing against my strengths. And it is one hell of an experience. For the first time I am pursuing something I am not really good at. I am just trying to get there. Where? To be able to bake decently. When my bakery course started I had other things in mind. Learn this and expand my business. But now I want to get back to my first love. The only thing I am passionate about. No prizes for attempting to guess that one.

It's not as if I am not enjoying my course. No, I am loving it. Learning how to bake wonderfully tasty stuff is great. Just that I cannot see myself baking cakes and cookies for a career. Not for the rest of my life.

The goal is still the same. I still want my own business. But now I will not give it first priority. Because if I am not going to write, there will always be a piece of me missing.

If I knew I possibly cannot survive without doing what I love, why did I even attempt doing something else? Was I scared? I have never been scared of treading the beaten path. It was not fear. Nor was it uncertainty. I guess it was " let me do something else and see If I find anything else as appealing."  I sort of feel that I ignored my calling just to try my hand at something else, just so I could experiment.

And now I  know. I have chosen. For better or for worse. 

April

Exams are not the best host for The Muse. May will be better. I miss this place. And my notebook. Fiction, in general. Reading and writing. 


A very tiring time, this. Tiring And trying. I hate exams, if you must know. My finals. College life will then be truly over. After exams, that is. 






I sometimes talk to myself. I often talk to myself. Aloud. 




Sigh. April 27th. 


Come back soon, Muse. 


With love,
you know me

Alive

The muse has been visiting often these days. Writing wise I am on a new high. I wish I had the guts to share my fiction on this blog. 


I am not a blogger who aspires to write. Or a girl with a blog who has a huge fan base that convinces her to write a book. Because, she is good enough.


I am a yet to be published writer who blogs. 


I don't need people to tell me to write. 


I write. It's something I did ever since I was twelve. It started with school essays that were read out in class. Then came poetry. 

                            "Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason."

                                                 Novalis

I started creating fictional people much before I started penning down my words. When I was in Kindergarden I invented a fictional sister. My class teacher asked my parents about her. They denied having another offspring. 


Even when I was in 2nd standard I had told one of my classmates about a sister who had been away for a long time and who had suddenly come back home. I kept on this act for months, regaling the antics of my long-lost sister. Her disappearance was as sudden as her arrival. 


(She appeared again in Jan 1999, but that is another story) 


Writing was my anchor. The only thing I thought I was good at. ( By now I know what else I am good at) It pulled  me through tough times. 


I write when I have to. When pen and paper pulls me. ( The memo feature in my phone comes in handy when pens are not available.)


These days I am more disciplined. I am on a deadline, you see. Self created. 


If I close my eyes and imagine my life without writing, I get a sinking feeling. If for some reason I have to stop writing I may survive, I will not live. 


This is why I write. This is why I am. 

Sheets of paper

March is a month for words. Here and in my notebook. 






Such is March. 

How to kill people: A killer guide.

WARNING: May seem offensive to most people. Not to be taken seriously. I am in no means suggesting any sort of action. If you do not like the following feel free to ignore. 


What is the best way to kill yourself?  I am thinking of  about suicide. Either way I say it it sounds as if I want to kill myself. Well I don't. I am perfectly happy with my life. I am just wondering about suicide. Not deep philosophical thoughts about what makes people commit suicide. Neither am I thinking about statistics and the growing rates of suicide. Mine is just an  inquiry about what would be the best way to kill yourself. I may get someone to commit suicide. Note that this someone will be fictional. 


I want to create a  suicide that is fool-proof. Idiot-proof. 


Or maybe a suicide that looks like murder. Thrillers anyone? This is getting exciting! I am now thinking of not only a fool-proof/idiot proof suicide but also one that resembles a murder. 


Asphyxia. People wrongly assume that choking is another name for Asphyxia, when it is only an example. Asphyxia is deficit supply of oxygen to the body.  And it sounds good on paper. Very Agatha Christie-ish huh? But then I don't think it is a DIY task.


Poison seems like a good idea. But which one? I can only think of Cyanide. Again an Agatha Christie influence. 


Maybe I should think bollywood. Maybe not. Bollywood suicides are very simple- sleeping pills. Sounds pretty cliche and therefore boring. 


Over dose of drugs sounds  interesting but is also over-used. Will not do. 


I am trying to hatch an elaborate suicide  attempt. Again I must mention here that it's  for a future fictional character. 


Voodoo. Make a doll that looks like you and stab it with needles. That could work actually. 


Ah! Maybe I can brew something out of this. Anticipation. My notebook awaits. 

Just want to write today.

It is my sister's b'day tomorrow and she has given me strict instructions  not to wake her up at twelve coz she is very sleepy. She is sleepy on the eve of her b'day. ( ah well, in her defense she got up really early today) 


Ah well the cake that was to be cut at midnight will be cut tomorrow. And now I have a craving for cake. Will wait till tomorrow. I do have a lot of will power. 


I am the only one awake at my place right now. And it is pretty early. And the person I was chatting to online has dozed off. Since I am wide awake I want to do something. I have been reading loads of blogs lately and now that I need something to do I don't feel like reading any of them. And so I am thinking. Randomly. And writing. I don't even know if I will post this. Maybe I will. I am curious about the reactions. I kind of know that I probably won't. But still. 

My sister is turning 13 tomorrow. I am trying hard to remember what it was like to be 13. All I remember about being 13 was my first proper, live human crush ( Earlier crushes were on non-human animated characters like Li from card captors and Dimitri from Anastasia.) 

You have to agree he  is attractive!

Don't laugh, 12 year olds of 2002 did have crushes on fictional guys. HP fans all over have crushes on Sirius Black, Fred and George Weasley, James Potter and Oliver Wood. And they are all fictional. Anyway, the point is that's all I remember about being 13. And the fact that I wasn't doing well in school. My marks were down the drain. So school- wise 13 not a good time to remember.

I don't really know what I am thinking of. There is a lot to do tomorrow. Maybe I will sleep. Or maybe not just yet.  

Maybe I will write some more tomorrow. Maybe another useless blog-post. Maybe just another musing in my notebook. Whatever. 

“Words, is oh such a twitch-tickling problem to me all my life.” 

-Roald Dahl, The BFG

. 

It's only words

This morning my father was reading out a text when my grandma asked him who had sent it. He said "P from Delhi, T's gharwala" (Gharwala: The  man she lives with, i.e her husband) I found the statement so funny that I almost burst out laughing ( I say almost coz we can't really burst out laughing at some situations.) 


It is not essentially a funny statement. I wanted to laugh because of the way it sounded- old Hindi film-ish. No one uses such phrases anymore. 


There is a tremendous gap in how we speak and and how our parents spoke. Forget Hindi, words old English   bu-shirt (half sleeved shirt)  are so much out of league that I have forbidden my dad to use it. He now tries hard to remember to say Half sleeved shirt instead. 


Infact, even my sister's lingo is very different from mine. ( There is, after all a 9 year gap between us) She has a favourite set of phrases  that she sprinkles generously in all her conversations. 


"How dumb" is used for any situation, regardless of what she actually thinks about it. Then there is "Awara types" (Awara basically refers to a useless person, who roams around because he/she does not have any work/commitments/responsibilities)  She may exclaim- "Kitne Awara type ke ho"  or greet me and mom with "Hello Awara ladies! "


She uses phrases without reason, it may or may not apply to the what is happening around her. But I tell you, it's fun.It's even more fun when my father gets scandalised when he hears her refer to her friends as "bakwas", dhaba or anything that sounds like an insult to him. He does realise that this is the way we speak, he accepts it but can't help but be bemused by it. 


I often end up using some phrases used often by people I am close to. My friend Kaniti used to say Jhat a lot. I picked it up from her and both of us use to splash it everywhere. (example Jhat jolle na tor: Ok I can't translate this, sorry) AK and I used to use "Kya pharak parta hai" ( It doesn't matter) and "Amar kichu jaye ashe na"( It doesn't affect me/I don't care) 


I, for my part love to say ainwayi  (  Which means just like that in punjabi) It's something I use often. Many of us exclaim "sahi hai", "mast" when something meets our approval. The 50+ people can keep being amused/bemused by the words around them.   I think having a having a specific lingo is fun. It is ainwayi, after all. 

Booked

I don't like reading e-books for the same reason I don't  cover my books to protect them. I like to look at the cover when I take a book in my hand. 

I like the feel of books. Correction,I love the feel of books. I love the slight ruffling sound of turning the pages when waiting to savour the next few words. And the task of remembering the page number for the next time you read it. 


Like a typical bookworm I like the smell of old books. And I won't trade those yellowed, musty pages for a just out edition. There is something about old books which can't be replaced by the fresh out of the print edition.


The first book I remember reading was a musical version of " Goldilocks and the three bears". The book had a few switches for a bear's growl and other sounds with instructions at the appropriate places to press the switch. It was very exciting and became more of a toy than a book. I think I read it everyday just to get a chance to listen to the 'grrr' sound of the bears. 


My second favourite was "Red riding hood". I loved that story. (Aside remark: I also wondered if the 'big bad wolf' of that story and the 'big bad wolf' of "Three little pigs" were the same)


Another  favourite activity as a kid was making bookmarks. I was forever creating bookmarks out of old greeting cards. I still have some of them, tucked away at a corner somewhere. 

Ownership of books is important to bookworms. Borrowing a favourite book from the library just wont do! Spending money on stuff is difficult for me, but when I really, really want a book I don't blink an eyelid before taking out my wallet. 


I am the kind of person who will head instinctively towards the book section in a store; take out interesting looking books; read their blurb and type the names of books in my cell. And then, when I am back home I will add those names to my "books to read" list. Ah, yes, the list is long and yeah I tick off the books once I have read them.


Some people say that us bookworms are lost in their own world and don't know an iota of what is happening in the world outside the book they are currently reading. I feel, that we understand the world much better than other people. Reading makes us more perceptive than people imagine us to be. We know better than others that failure is not the end; that roses don't come without thorns; and that all stories need not have happy endings.

August was dry but September seems good enough

The whole of August was spent away from this blog. Not that I didn't write, I just didn't write for the blog. Sometimes I write stuff just for myself. I am quite selfish that way.