I love 2015. It’s my year. I can feel it, I know it. It’s sort of epiphanous (not sure if the word exists). This year, so far, has been uber cool.
So I attended Sukoon. My univ fest. It was brilliant. I love dancing. It’s exhilarating. And to dance in a half crazed, half dazed crowd swaying to the heart thumping rhythm of music (teen maar being my favourite) is a feeling like no other. We strategically stood near those gigantic speakers. Ha! Oh and on top of that when you are a pilion rider on a bike like KTM, you almost forget you are riding. It’s like flying in the air. I love those speeds. That pick up, my God! In seconds it went up by a 100. The wind howling in your ears and hair flying in every which direction has got to be what heaven feels like.
The second would be my new toy. My beautiful machine. My elliptical cycle. It costed a bomb, but worth every penny. It’s got this neat little twister, a stepper, and two pairs of Dumbbells. Well. Of different weights and colours. The blue being heavier than pink (ha! Fitness companies created the gender stereotypes and strength myths, I am sure).
I have recently discovered that ten minute work out sessions are fun. Or working out when bored. Or when you are in a murderous rage. Nothing beats working out. In fact, when I am away from my machine, I am half afraid someone might use it and not use it. Yes, I am weird like that. The twister is my favourite part. It shows just how flat your tummy has been getting. You gotta love that.
Vac’s burgers and Starbucks’ blueberry delight cakes (except for the layer of cheese mousse, that is yucky). I am in love with them both. The thali at the new chemistry canteen is also good (the curd, very surpirsingly, is sweet, not sour, yay me). I have also just about realized that I am good with languages.
The best? I have started having fun. Responsibly, of course. There is, really, no point in waiting to have fun. My mother, especially, is all for this idea of me going out and letting my hair down with my friends. Apparently, the PhD can put a damper on my personality, it’s the reason she cites. But I know better. After a particularly (add suitable adjective) experience last year, my mother seems to have decided that it’s an awesome idea for me to hang out with my friends and have fun. She, figuratively, pushes me out of the house. She doesn’t let me follow my self set curfew timings anymore. And boy, am I having fun!
2015, cheers. Continue to be my year!