A LETTER TO PARIS: FROM BELOVED FAN

How are you? Firstly, I would like to say that I am writing this letter in pink because Wikipedia tells me it’s your favorite color. I know the last few months have been really tough on you, and I am therefore writing this letter to tell you that I am on your side.
Ever since your jail sentence was announced, people in America have been celebrating with unprecedented fervor. I know you have no idea what the last two words of the previous sentence meant, so let me put it in simpler words —- Most Americans hate you. And to quote your famous words of wisdom, “That is so not hot”.

Every time I watch Jay Leno or Conan O’Brien on T.V., they make a cheap joke about you, and the audience claps as though it were the first time they realized that they had the ability to make noise with their hands. Who the hell even decided that slapping one hand with the other should be a sign of appreciation? I do not expect you to know the answer, so please don’t bother thinking about it.

You also have all the major news networks bringing on a bunch of depressed old women to trash you and say you’re a spoilt brat who should go to jail for a year. A year?? All you did was drive drunk. You didn’t kill or harm anyone. If there’s anything you should go to jail for, it’s your music album. The stars are blind, but unfortunately the humans are not deaf.

The main reason people, essentially the media, say they hate you is because you are famous for no reason. Well firstly, the media has no right to complain because they are what made you famous in the first place. You did not ask for them to follow you around everywhere you go. You did not ask them to watch your horrible reality show featuring your formerly chubby and now anorexic best friend. You did not ask them to take pictures of you reading “The Idiot’s Guide to Reading Books” upside down.

Secondly, I believe that you do deserve the fame you have. The sex tapes you made might have had poor production values and the dialogue left a lot to be desired, but it changed a lot of lives. Poor horny male kids who had nothing going for them could now say that they had you, Paris Hilton, naked in their bedroom. Other celebrities have since decided that they too need to show their sexual talents to the world as they have no other talents at their disposal. Oprah has her way of changing lives. You have yours. Who are we to judge which way is right, and which way is wrong? Please do not answer this question.

The truth is that no one gives themselves fame. Fame is given to you by the public and the media. The media thinks that you go around getting drunk and having sex with innumerable people because you want the publicity and attention. You and I both know that you are way too dumb to play the media. And if what they say is true, and they did get played, how incredibly stupid are they? The basic fact is that you are easy and that is all. If everyone hates you to this extreme level only because you are a slut, then that’s just sad. Personally, I would like to say that I love sluts. I am a budding one myself.

I think there’s a deeper, more psychological reason as to why you are derided as much as you are. It’s known as Schadenfreude, a German word that means “Taking pleasure in the suffering of others”. So the next time anyone disses you or tries to bring you down, just scream “Schadenfreude!”. Not only will it confuse the shit out of them, but it might also make people think you have a brain. Or maybe they’ll just end up thinking you’ve been having lots of German sex. You never know..

I would like to conclude this letter by telling you that you should be proud of who you are. You are the most high profile socialite in the world. And you should be proud of it.

(click to enlarge the most viewed celebrity halloween outfit)

WELCOME WINTER:I FEEL THE NORTHEN WINDS FROM PARK STREET IN MY HAIR

So many memories. winter is always crowding with memories, so many of them, through these days of November December January. “crowding”, literally. winter has always been the time for new people - crowds of new faces, new places, new activities, new roles to play. some last beyond the season, most get shed along the way. but it’s winter again, i love winter. i love winter festivities more than those in October, less crowds, less noise, lesser risk of people throwing a cracker just as you happen to pass by (i despise crackers). pleasanter weather. Parkstreet all decked up and sparkling. park street in winter has always been special, how can one ever forget the jingle bells during the last week of every year. Only, t3, nescafe (that is no more), CCD, the fresh aroma of cakes at flury’s. hunting for music in free school street. the long dark walk to park circus.

so many memories. i don’t recollect much beyond the past three-four years… i only remember having to wake up before dawn for the old school, walking down to catch the school bus and the streetlights would be still on, everything dark, the chill sinking its teeth into the bit of bare skin and watching girls shivering their legs between high hem of the skirt and ankle socks. That felt unreal back then, it feels like someone else’s memories now. but four years back, Parkstreet… getting very very drunk with the blacksheep cousin and not being able to walk. Getting notes tattooed all over yourself a couple of days before exams. The exams, there’s always been exams in winter… revision, revision, last-moment nail biting… urging the benumbed fingers to pick up speed. the winter with the rock stars, occupying the entire nescafe all evening, the incessant concert-goings, head banging, screaming, sometimes head banging and screaming just to keep the cold from freezing you. the insane costume party and the boring Christmas nativity play… being made to wear the clothes of a girl and act as an girl were the most delectable thing on earth… huddling together on the roof to watch fireworks usher in the new year. dinner with mum… walking down to St. paul’s cathedral… soaking in the ethereal atmosphere during Founder’s day ceremony. the winter of the theater workshop, new things to do, new people, the long cold bus rides home, partying, partying, sleepovers, someone who had such a close friend for the time, sharing music, sharing stories, sharing secrets. The night of sneaking into the home and the morning of sneaking myself out and helping fellow mates in getting permission for night out and prom nights( mainly girls of loeroto convent and pratt memorial) . The jazz fest, the music soaring through the chill of winter… the amazing dinner afterwards… ogling the musicians, feeling speechless. last new year’s eve, after the party broke, the 80 ml vodka shots(Volga) which Anir got for us , i sat and cried on the steps of an unknown place, among unknown people and i just couldn’t stop myself and between the tears i remember feeling grateful that nobody knew me there, it would pass. last winter was a winter of pain, the pain wouldn’t leave me even for a moment, but i look back and i can’t touch the pain anymore, it’s become unreal somewhere in the usual flurry of winter, the colors and sights and sounds and the crowds of faces.

winter is good.

Bookphiles V/s NERDS: BOOKWORM CAFE DEABTE ASSIGNMENTS

Bookphiles are often mistaken same as nerd but both are as different from each as cheese  is from chalk. A nerd is mainly someone who is always buried into books 24×7  and is mainly just interested in just reading books related to him somehow like dictated by the course or syllabus of school or college.

A bookphile is a normal  person who has liking for books and often said to be someone  to have book collection as an hobby as a loose term. The books lover cover often various topics and genres of writing and is not guided by any fixed or hard and fast rules.  They are the one people who voluntarily clean the public library and sit for hours sitting in in bookworm’s cafe sipping coffee and going through their treasure of books