Why I Won’t be Writing for the Next Two Months

Hey! This isn’t going to be a post explaining why I haven’t posted in a while (I hate those)- this is going to be even worse.

So…If you’re not in India, you probably have no idea what the board exams are. Lucky you! Although if you’re part of the IGCSE board, I think you have to do your O-Levels, right?

Anyways at the end of 10th grade, we Indians have to write an exam in each subject (Maths, English, Science, Social Studies and Hindi) testing us on everything that we’ve learnt. It’s a national level exam and it’s a HUGE thing. It’ll be a major deciding factor for what streams we can take up next year (in 11th), and ultimately our career choices. Considering the fact that I want to take a stream which is in high demand and my grades haven’t been all that hot this year, this is an opportunity for me to fix things/screw them up even more badly.
Additionally, I’ve been told that in job interviews I’ll have decades later, they’ll ask me- “What were your board exam results?”

I am freaking out. Even more than me, my parents are freaking out.

Bottom line is- the board exams are important and my cell phone and computer have been confiscated ’til they’re over.

So the week after next I’ll be writing my pre-boards. The month after next, I’ll be writing my boards. And in the meantime I won’t be writing any posts.

However, as soon as my summer break begins (March 20th if you’re interested in knowing), I will do my best to make up for lost time.

Wish me luck! (Both for my studies and for the exams themselves)

Sunburn: A Poem

The unpleasant
rough rasp
of an unwanted tongue
sliding and slippery
slowly and smell
over virgin skin,
sending pebbles
and tired resignation
over trapped skin.

Dark spots clouding
as teeth join tongue
draining, drawing
out the sexless
hopeless, helpless
touch of the flushed.

Burning too bright.
Burning too bold.
Burning too sun.

Decisions: A poem

I will.
I will not.
It’s a decision
that’s somehow moved out
of my hesitating hands.
I waited too, too long
and then descending deadlines
(well named for they’re fatal signs)
grabbed at my choices
and I was too cowardly
or maybe just unsure
but I couldn’t hold onto the cards
and now they’re not mine,
not anymore.
I will not.
I will.
It’s not
in my
power to decide

Falling From Cotton Candy Clouds: A poem

I fell from cotton candy clouds.
I fell from those sweet pastel shades
constantly hovering, wishing well
to all those gathered beneath.

I slid down a long licorice rope,
a tempting twist of tragedy.
I slipped and lost my cotton candy
crown- I lost it for eternity.

I brushed past the gumdrop mountains
too full of pride to pick at powdered sugar,
above digging at jelly and too full of anger
to consider my loss and lack of power.

I grabbed desperately at toffee trees,
breaking bunches of golden brown caramel
in a desperate effort to break my fall,
grasping at straws pixie dust filled.

I fell hard on stale ancient mints,
strong smelling and astringent.
A life lived by borrowing things lent
and wishing, wishing I could repent.

Everything Leads To You: A Book Review

Book: Everything Leads To You

Author:: Nina Lacour

Everything Leads to You

Blurb:

A love letter to the craft and romance of film and fate in front of—and behind—the camera from the award-winning author of Hold Still.

A wunderkind young set designer, Emi has already started to find her way in the competitive Hollywood film world.

Emi is a film buff and a true romantic, but her real-life relationships are a mess. She has desperately gone back to the same girl too many times to mention. But then a mysterious letter from a silver screen legend leads Emi to Ava. Ava is unlike anyone Emi has ever met. She has a tumultuous, not-so-glamorous past, and lives an unconventional life. She’s enigmatic…. She’s beautiful. And she is about to expand Emi’s understanding of family, acceptance, and true romance.

My thoughts:

I loved the style of writing. Its lyrical and descriptive-gifting for a book which relies so much on mental images and is about cinematography.

This book actually reminded me of a French film. It lacked any real plot, and at points the actions of the characters seemed a bit more melodramatic than the situation warranted. But at the same time the book was beautiful, relying heavily on obvious but fitting and uncliched metaphors and symbols- kind of like how French directors are fond of letting the cameras linger over specific beautiful objects to highlight them and bring out a certain emotion.

Despite the fact that the whole book was in first person narration, the symbolic use  of sofas and lighting actually made sense because the MC was an artistic interior design prodigy. She gave us short and interesting explanations about how films are directed, emphasizing the role of art and background in setting the scene for certain shots. I learned more about how films create illusions and the inevitable collapse of fantasy for those who work on the sets than I ever thought I would. Though the information was plenty in quantity, the way the author has shared the information  never verges on the lecture category. Instead it seemed like the honest, unscripted voice of a mature teenager passionate about her craft- interior designing. Her passion was practically tangible and it leaked through her thoughts, speech and actions. Honestly it was the most beautiful part of the book.

The dialogue and plot had long, beautiful buildups before collapsing with a new twist, moving in a direction that seems almost contradictory to your expectations.
I think the part (pun not intended) I had most trouble with was the main character. She just seemed so…well adjusted. With Professor parents, amazing and supportive best-friend and brother, a sweet emerging romance and a career that was moving in leaps and bounds- there just seemed to be no conflict. Everything was just too perfect. I guess, the mystery was supposed to be the story arc. But to be honest, the mystery took a backseat to other personal crises (missing friends when they move to college, getting the guts tell your long time crush you like him, etc) which were wrapped up way too quickly and easily. The books biggest failing was its lack of story. And to be honest, that’s something that can’t be overlooked easily.

This book was a lot of firsts for me: First book with a gay/lesbian main character, first young adult book that was partially educational, first realistic, contemporary book with an MC that doesn’t have an existential crisis,  first book set in LA that doesn’t demonize paparazzi and so on. These firsts are probably the main reason I didn’t close this book and leave it as a DNF (did not finish). The novelty of all these things somehow made up for all the blandness and predictability of the plot.

My ratings:

Cover: 3/5
Plot: 1/5
Characters: 3/5
Romance: 4/5
Plotholes: 4/5
Overall Rating: 3/5
Other Books Like this: Fanart by Sarah Tregay, On the Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta
Would I read Another book by this author:  Maybe… I enjoye this book despite it’s lack of plot. And I enjoyed Hold Still too but…

Dress Up Doll: A Poem

I am airbrushed porcelain.
Red lipped. Pink cheeked stains.
Fat ringlets the colour of grain
tied back neatly with blue ribbon
and a matching dress of satin,
long, leading, gauzy, graceful train.

I am all teeth perfectly pearly,
white, evenly shaped and tiny.
I am all blue eyes, watery and glassy
rimmed in long, fake golden lashes curly.
I am all fake blond hair- straight and shiny.
I am all ivory skin- brittle but pretty.

I am your doll. You dress me up.
You watch me become a miniature.
a reflection, an image of your figure
as a I grow up little by little, always an adult
always and still your personal dress up doll.
Perfect. Pretty. No disfiguration.
Nothing. Empty. No substantation.