Category Archives: Just Life

Dying. No, not actual dying.

Just a heads up to my dedicated followers (shut up, Voice in My Head, I have followers. They’re just shy.) that I’ll be very very busy till April next year because I’m in last year of High School (is that how the rest of the world says it?) and I’ll be busy making a career.

I’ll still login every now and then and may or may not post something just for the hell of it. (Mum will totally allow that, Voice.)

Also, I’m making another blog focused mainly on writing and art, and I intend to get it  up sometime next year before November. Anyone who wants to help me in this, please don’t hesitate and contact me. Or maybe just drop me a few tips.


Ankita Deka

(It’s fine. People already know my name. Some do. I think. Why are you back anyway?)

All Hail Mother’s Day! (Is this enough, mum?)

My mother took Mother’s Day pretty well considering I started laughing my arse off when she very casually broached the grave earth-shattering topic of “So . . . what did you get me for today?”

Hey, don’t judge. I plan to get her some very nice diamond jewellery.

When I’m financially sound enough.

So maybe . . . in the future.

In the far far future.

P.S. I had to write ‘diamond’ way too many times to get the spelling right, which is pathetic ridiculous since I write it every other day.

How to Edit – A Guide to Sound More Intelligent Than You Actually Are (and to Learn the Art of Writing Shorter Titles)

I’ve always hated group projects.

Oh it’s all good when I’m the only one who wanted to do the project (or the only one who was capable). Ever wondered how dictatorship felt? I simple had to sit on my throne (read: the table) and imperiously demand stuff to be done and watch, thrilled, as the commoners scuttled off to do my bidding (while I cackled).

When everyone has a mind though, and are prepared to use it (vehemently), there is usually yelling, fighting and throwing people out of windows. Not specifically in that order. One reason I legitimately have to hate group projects is because the editing job almost always falls on me. Mistakes can be excused to an extent because meeting someone with English as their mother tongue in our state is like meeting a wood nymph. But, as I said, to an extent.

Take these two geniuses, for example—

“You are my angle.”

& “Exercise is good for body. As a maater of fact, it helps the body goodly.”

And I go—

So as you’ve read in the title, this post is to rectify a major headache of mine because I’m going to rule the world someday anyway, might as well start making me be pleased with you.


  • One major rule of editing is to get distance from the writing. Don’t try and proofread your writing when you have just completed it. You would already be mentally drained and since what you’ve written would still be fresh in your mind, you would accidentally start skipping some mistakes and read the sentences which have a mistakes in them without those. The very best thing to avoid this is to hand the editing business to someone competent and hope with fingers crossed that they don’t trash it.


  • If you are someone who prefers reading printed material but can write only on paper (like me), don’t procrastinate and type it up. There’s a good chance there will be a lot of mistakes if you had been writing without thinking (so as not to stifle creativity. That’s me, hello). I mostly do this type of proofreading and edit about five time—once after writing the thing on paper, once before typing it up on the computer, once when Word shows me those squiggly red lines, once after printing it out and a last one or two times when friends (very grimly) ask, “What the hell have you written? Where’d you hit your head?”
NOOOOOOOOOOO!! Credit: Onidenki (DeviantArt)
Credit: Onidenki (DeviantArt)


  • If you are short on time, you can change the text style and format of the writing. If the writing seems new or odd to you, your brain will focus more on that specific thing and pick out mistakes more easily. If you  are short   of time, you can change  the    text style   and formet of   the    If the    writing  seems new or   odd   to  you, you’re     brain will focus more on that     specific thing  and and   pick out   mistakes more   easily. Also, don’t give up on a sentence because it seems too obvious or too hard. Did you did you not make out the mistakes in the sentences above?


  • If it’s a long document, don’t proofread all at once. If you are someone who honestly goes, “Yay! More mistakes to correct!” [You’re nerdier(er) than nerds, buddy] then I assume the length of the document won’t matter. Otherwise though, you will be trying to read the thing and mostly be going, “That’s a word. That’s okay. Oh, another word that’s okay. Oh my, that’s a daymn fiiine word.” My point is, proofread in chunks and there will be fewer mistakes.


  • Last point, but not the least. Are you ready for this? How to learn the art of writing shorter titles/articles/stories? Edit out what is unnecessary. Writing romantic prose but don’t want to bore your readers? Nobody wants to know to know the hundred ways she bites her ruby lips, darl, so delete more than half of that. Have to stay within a given word limit? Cut out the superfluous words, or replace lots of words with a single word. Too long a sentence? Break it up. Too long a title? Again, edit out what is unnecessary. For instance, I could have simply written, ‘How to Edit’ rather than the one you see now, but blog readers are tough customers. You need to reel them in. In the end, you have to know what works and what doesn’t and keep in mind where you’ll be publishing your article.

So there’s that. A way to sound more intelligent than you actually are. The written word is always more beautiful when the poem you sent your crush does not make them feel they are getting hit on by a fifth grader.

Though if you do write like a fifth grader, the only thing I can tell you is to find a good language/grammar teacher or to request me to have you legally killed by my beta bush monsters.



Beta Bush Monsters in Antartica

Recently, three of my Beta Bush Monsters, Dave, Steve and Adam left for Antarctica.

Don’t ask me why. They said something about how a poisonous plant could be made in colder climates. I think they wanted to see snow, though. And polar bears. Do polar bears exist in Antarctica?

Anyway, I got the news yesterday, that Dave succumbed to frostbite.

A minute of silence for my Beta Bush Monster, and for Steve and Adam who learnt the pain of loss.

A silver lining is that Steve and Adam has realised that even their monster lives are too short to be wasted. I think they’re planning a June wedding.

Good for you, guys.

And Dave . . . You will be missed.

The Daily Life of High School Seniors

I admit, I have been entertaining thoughts of deleting this blog and never ever thinking about what I posted here. But . . . I wanted to rant and I can’t anywhere else otherwise my friends are going to shoot me.

This is going to be long, people. Sit down and try to keep up.

Note: The title is self-explanatory.

There was a thing about my friend N, which A, her friend told H, his friend.

H mentioned it to his girlfriend, M.

M (conspiratorially) told Z.

Z consulted S.

Z and S (hesitantly) told N.

I listened.

With me?

N was upset.

Z and S cornered NA.

We think NA told MA and they told A. (remember him?)

A told H. 

Still reading?

H discussed it with is girlfriend (same one), M.

M cornered Z.

M may or may not have insulted S.

S wasn’t sure. She was offended nonetheless.

I listened.

[On a different note, O doesn’t care and SH is clueless.]

Now, Z and S may just threaten NA.

Who may just seek refuge in MA,

They may just consult A.

A may just rant in front of H.

H may just ask M’s opinion.

Here? Wait . . . don’t leave yet!

You may have guessed what I will do.

I’ll listen.

And probably make plans to tie them to chairs, lock them in a room, and threaten them unless they talk.

Confused? I know I am.

Just for the sake of the one’s who skipped this after two lines, here’s a quick diagram I made.

Nah, just kidding. Too much work.

But . . . pi charts are easy, so here you go.


Never Kill a Spider Just After Watching ‘The Mist’

I killed a spider today and it was the most terrifying thing I have ever done. Not because I killed it or because I went close to it, but because I’m afraid it was the smallest of babies of a sub-species of giant man-eating spiders yet undiscovered which will now come to avenge their young and tear off limb by limb and cackle as they chomp down on my bones.




I may have been watching too much of horror movies.


They Broke Me

I contorted my body into odd shapes for yoga, competed in 50 m sprint, 100 m shuttle run, 600 m run, failed hilariously in high jump and sit ups without prior training or practice, all for the sake of getting twenty measly marks for my Physical Education terminal test.

I strained my stomach muscles and probably bruised my ribs.

I can’t talk, I can’t laugh, I can’t move sideways, can’t straighten mt spine, can’t eat.


*murderous tendencies coming out to play*

What are they so happy about? -_-
What are they so happy about? -_-

Tea, British People and It’s a Bit Not Good I Somewhat Understand More Jokes About London Than Where I Live

Watching British people on telly sipping tea and conversing about the fate of the world in their gorgeous accent has ruined me for life. Apparently, my taste buds have some kind of link with my eyes and ears. I can’t stand the mediocre tea offered in most houses we visit (generally of the fleeting acquaintances. Thy can’t be bothered to make an impression). That, right there, is a major social failure.The looks I keep getting when I can school in my more . . . horrified reactions range from ‘Who the hell is this girl? Let’s ignore her even during the conversation where we talk about her.’ to ‘Your face offends me. Get out.’

Not bad. This can be vaugly qualified as sweetened dishwater.
Not bad. This can be vaugly qualified as sweetened dishwater.

Eating Tea # 1

teaI’m eccentric. No, really. It’s a heatedly discussed topic. Among my friends, that is. Others believe I’m a zombie with lesser expression than Kristen Stewart a brick. A smart zombie, but a zombie nonetheless.

I digress. This post is not about zombies.

So the reason for my supposed eccentricity is varied. One of the main being that I tried explaining how to remember that resistance increases in a conductor when the temperature increases and vice versa. You know, science stuff. I mean, of course resistance will decrease if a human body is turned into a Popsicle by Yeti. How’s that funny?

And there are some things that I’m only either beginning to figure out or have found out just couple of years ago.

Take for an example, the number of seats available in an institution. When I was young . . . er, I first heard the question ‘How many seats are available?’ to which came the reply . . . some number. So the someone who wanted a seat in some educational institution was vying for one of these very seats. My dilemma was that I couldn’t understand why there should be any shortage of seats. As I saw it, one could easily pick up a chair from somewhere and place it in the classroom where you’re going to study.

Yes, you weren’t expecting that were you? My people weren’t too.

Another reason I’ve always remembered was the working of ceiling fans.

Did you ever wonder how a ceiling fan works (ooo science-y stuff again)?

It’s a simple mechanism in itself. Electric current is supplied and when the fan blades turn, they displace the air which then comes and hit us. Forget about the engineering behind it. When you do, it’s child’s play.

I, on the other hand was fixated on the “round thingy” in the middle. According to my theory, when the fan starts moving, a kind of a door opens on the side of the “round thingy” which we don’t normally see. Previously trapped air then escapes to cool down the surroundings. This air is replenished through the long “rod thingy” by which it hangs down from the ceiling.

Okay, I didn’t know air is everywhere. I was five. Sue me.

When these stories are usually told to a trusted friend, it is met with an enormous amount of laughter. Now, though, I want to crawl into a hole to escape these embarrassing theories I had, although laced with relatively lesser vocabulary (proof of how awesome a person I’ve grown into).

Ah, well. What can you do about it?

Oh, I know. Write a blog post about how stupid eccentric others are too.

But that’s for another time.

P.S. Plus, I finally realised why there is a tiny pocket inside that big pocket stitched into my jeans. Two of my coins are having a spat. Just put them apart! Genius revelation, eh?

Pet Peeve


Imagine you met a girl on the road and became acquainted with her, and one day you just happened–just happened–to say ”you did not just say that’, and the girl slaps you, that would be me.

And then we would go about our happy lives.

Unless, of course, I was super mad at something and came to take out my anger on you at night. Then that’s an entirely different case.

Anyway, I’ve been harbouring this pet peeve for as long as I can remember. The phrase for the chalenged-people-with-teeny-vocubulary–‘you did not just say that’ (sometimes with a ‘seriously’ involved) gets on my nerves.

Also, I can’t let you go on the pretence of you being deaf. In that case, you would have said, ‘I’m legally deaf. Can you repeat that slowly so I can lip read better?’ or something. And yes, I seriously did just say that.

There have been some incidents which can verify my annoyance at the phrase.

Once upon a time, my tuitions had just ended and me and my friends were standing in a loose ring and talking. Some of them suddenly saw a guy and got very interested. After listening to their incredibly stupid conversation for a while, I mentioned that he neither had good looks nor any positive qualities. The conversation stopped and everyone turned to stare at me. Meanwhile, I was shaking a bottle of Pepsi (long time no drink, Pepsi!) and a girl broke the silence by saying in a patronising tone, ‘xetu tai kuwanai*.’

Coincidentally, I opened the cap of the bottle of Pepsi at that exact moment and the foam got splattered on the girl’s jeans.

I later insisted my split personality did that.

Okay, I was just searching for a really cool picture showing split personalities. But thanks for the info ~
Okay, I was just searching for a really cool picture showing split personalities. But thanks for the info ~

Just kidding. We chalked it up to an accident.

Or maybe it was in the stars. Hm . . .

Another day in school, I walked up to one my friend’s boyfriend despite my other friend request and asked him if he is sensitive about his height. He said yes and I came out of my class to see Dee (my aforementioned other friend) slightly blushing and repeating over and over, “Why? Why? Why did you ask him that?”

As much as I was wondering if she was hyperventilating, I was also on cloud nine by her non-usage of the phrase.  I wanted to hug her and laugh and cry at the same time, but that would have revealed I’m crazy so I settled for manically laughing, which worked just as well.


*Obviously, you should know what it means.