Crying out loud...

I hate her fake smile… she is only doing her job but then I hate her job
I hate leaving… leaving any place: old home, new home, Kolkata, Mumbai, campus
I hate leaving… leaving people, people like my little niece- we worked hard for two days to get to know each other, and now I don’t know when I will see her again, I don’t know if she will remember me, I don’t know how much I will miss in her life- the next time I meet her she will probably start her anorexic journey, she will run her race in the right direction and she will like boys (arrrghhhhh…..)
I hate it when my dad calls me a shaMBA, a wasteful spoilt brat, a consumerist materialistic prodigal
I hate waiting… waiting for sms replies, gtalk replies, for phone calls, for tickets, for trains, for people, for the perfect life
I hate hype and the fact that “poverty porn sells” (with due acknowledgements to the person who came up with the term) and I still can’t get over the fact that the UPA government claimed its “due share of credit for providing a conducive democratic environment”… all for nothing!! SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE IS NOT AN INDIAN MOVIE