'Cause growing up is awfuller than all the awful things that ever were.

Narrrr, sometimes I hate pretending that I'm a grown up. Think about it, really. Someone back in the prehistoric day decided that in order to grow up, you had to stop being a child. And truth be told, I don't see what is so terrible about childhood, that golden time when it was really really hard to be sad.

The truth of the matter is, we are all one hobo-trying-to-grab-your-hair away from snapping. Which happened to me at the subway station a few days ago. The hair grabbing attempt, I mean, not the snapping. The snapping is currently hidden away in the folds and curves of a looming screeching university deadline, which has assumed more urgency than other things like losing your mind.

And I must also, while I'm at it, tell you about my epiphany about work/homework/procrastination related stress. We're never actually stressed out about our tensions and problems. The thing that causes the stress is the stress itself. Take that away and you simply have that assignment you have to write or those pile of dishes you have to do. Take that burden off your shoulders and you're light enough to just do the thing that's getting you down. I realized this and was all woooooaaah, but as it turns out, setting this theory to practice is a bit stressful. Heh.

It was almost 30 degrees today and it's so so surreal how 30 degrees in India is like tralala but here in Berlin it just feels like a furnace. Time to buy that fan, I think.

Har har

This profound meme I found captures how I've been feeling for the last few weeks.

Oh well. It gets better, right? Blogging always helps.


Waiting for Godot,
The Cyniqueen


P.S - If you didn't understand the title, you absolutely must listen to 'I Won't Grow Up' from the Peter Pan movie. You must.

Groping in the dark

Weekend chai mug. Oh Yeah.

Listening to Chansons while trying to deal with impending deadlines.

Trying (ever so desperately, ever so unsuccessfully) to deal with homesickness, that illness whose cure I can't afford right now.

Trying to pinpoint the exact moment that Berlin became my wife and India my mistress instead of the other way around (I want to say husband and lover, but it doesn't convey my point in the same way, does it? Also, this metaphor has nothing to do with my views as a woman.)

Trying to shoo away the recurring gloom that intercepts every sentence and every thought on days like today.

University is like trying to get on a speeding train which decided not to wait for you but expects you to hop on anyway. I still like it better than not having anything to do. 

Being able to have Indian tasting chai in Berlin is funnily the only thing I can orient myself to on some days. Something about the fact that it tastes exactly the same in another time zone, something about its memories with people and places in my life, something about the fact that it reminds me all at once of being at home in Goa and in Pune, of drinking an end-of-a-work-day cup with my sister, the 'open canteen' in Pune, being in the PG (Paying Guest accommodation) with my roommate and being in the kitchen of my grandparents' place is pretty damn comforting.

Toast with me

A toast to tea

Gloom be damned,

The Cyniqueen

Oops, I did it again

Hellew blogosphere!

Le bullet points:

• I just finished a spring internship 
• University just resumed 
• I have no time to breathe 
• Creativity is being throttled by aforementioned breathing difficulty 
• My face has surrendered to acne without the slightest struggle of a fight. Yet again.
• Last night K. and I video-recorded bits of a concert by an awesome band called The Legendary Lost Mojados. It was a part of university work and felt very hoity-toity, what with lugging the camera and tripod around and getting asked for our business card. Heh.

A bout of self-doubt seems to have left me creatively-paralysed as it were and all attempts to resuscitate my fading writing-abilities have been disappointing.

Until I figure out what the hell this phase this (and hopefully have some time to work on the idea for a new blog that has been fermenting in my mind) the posts might be scarce. Or there might too many for you to keep up with.

Flowers and spring love from Berlin,
The Cyniqueen