The dance-show was a lot of fun. My red dress didn't fly up in the air like I anticipated, and the straps of my heels didn't snap mid-dance. My partner (though he was way, way, way older than me) didn't drop me (he only nearly did), and he twirled me just right. Salsa is fun, and if law-school and internship didn't eat up so much time, and if I could find a suave guy for a dance partner, who doesn't think that dancing is gay, and who doesn't have hygiene issues, I'd do it every damn day!

Now it's just the internship. The internship. Massive pain in the rear internship.

Why is legal drafting so boring?

WHY can't I be given "WORK" to do? Not just researching on some ridiculous pointless property dispute and the Law of Wills and the Hindu Succession Act, 1956 (which is one of the most bloody archaic laws I've ever come across, but heck, I'm a first year law student. What do I know? I live in my idyllic, rosy bubble where there is uniform civil code, AND anarchy. Contradictory, right?). What is left of my legal brain is rotting and rusting from facebooking, blogging, chatting with random people from the past that I don't intend to really catch up with, and doing other pointless non-intellectual activities between the occasional bouts of research.

And I JUST found out that this is a paid internship. I'm going to get paid for sitting in this air-conditioned office everyday for a couple of hours, using their super-fast internet connection to facebook, blog and chat with random people. I hope they don't pay me. I really hope they don't. I don't deserve this. I feel like a supreme lazy bitch. But then, I'm not lazy.

THERE IS JUST NO WORK TO DO. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. No. WORK.

The stupid court is closed, and it won't open till next week. There are these super-smart fresh-out-of-law-school associates here who keep flying about the office filing writs by the second. This place is over-staffed, and there is JUST NO WORK.

GIVE ME WORK!! Make me file a writ, type out a legal-notice. Something! I'm not that stupid. What is left of my brain is functional enough to WORK, which is why I'm interning in the first place. I'm supposed to LEARN, not learn to be a SNEAKY, LAZY BITCH MISUSING OFFICE PRIVILEGES. Urgh! I'm blinking at this fat, huge, 5000 page text on the Law of Wills researching for a case that has been pending in court for the last two decades and that is probably not scheduled for hearing until next year.

Law-school. And its numerous myths.

Why is life such a paradox? Ironies confound the hell out of me, sometimes. I just don't get it.

Isn't it incredibly ironic that middle-class people who have been born and brought up in a developing country can be so terribly well-read, well-bred, well-mannered and polite despite the 'inadequate education', I quote, they have received, whereas some rich hypocrite who claims to have received a better quality of education from some fancy foreign school and university displays behaviour which is abominable and disgusting, by asking blatantly blunt questions, in a quest to prove his financial superiority over the other--an attempt to make the other person feel inferior?

Isn't it self-explanatory that at least decency, if not aristocratic behaviour, is expected from one who receives what he considers the 'best form of education'? Nope, it isn't evidently. Because what you learn is not dependent on where you study, or even what you study. It's all about perspective, and attitude.

So even if you study in some fancy school and an even better university, and you live in a palatial house, and own a private jet, and can take a cruise in the middle of the year if you so please, at the end of the day you're a smaller person with ABSOLUTELY NO SCRUPLES WHATSOEVER, than your counterpart who is temporarily in what you consider 'a developing country'--a truth that is facaded under the veils of patriotism that suddenly emerges out of nowhere, when you crave the authentic experience of sambar-vadais and Tamil cinema.

So if you think that your financial superiority is a sanction that you are a better, and bigger person, then at least help yourself. Go read Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, and learn a bit about the non-materialistic and the aesthetic ways of living sans a private jet and a million people waiting at your beck and call, whom you take for granted, as opposed to the flamboyance that you display coupled with the inflammatory statements you enjoy making and the un-required questions asked not out of concern, but only with the mala-fide intention of attempting to make people feel inferior.

:D

Oh, and now that this is out of me, I call a truce now.

This internship gives me reason to drop out of law-school and become a 'couch-potato-before-the-tv-eating take-out from cartons-and-binge-drinking myself to death'.

If the facts of the case are already typed, and is now ingrained in your brain, WHY do you need me to tabulate it? Oh, I forgot. We're non-paid over-eager first-year law students, who have no clue about the 'law' (read previous post). We have no legal brain.

As an afterthought, reading the case wasn't so bad actually. But after reading it 4 times, I felt like banging my head against a wall. Both the parties are wrong. One wrong nullifies another. So stop suing each other and get on with life. Simple? Not so much.

Every argument has a counter-argument. Everything has to be looked at from a different point of view. Every minute detail has to be harped upon.

Sigh. I chose this. It could be so much simpler if everyone stopped quantifying things.

To quote Rhett Butler, "Frankly my deal, I don't give a damn."

Frosted chocolate-covered strawberries.
And they say it's food-for-sex. Now, who would have thought?

I can't believe I studied Contracts and Constitution for one semester. I don't know a thing, and my stupidity (in the subjects in question, and hopefully not in general) has finally come to surface. So law school doesn't teach you a thing. And interning is 'the learning process'. Sure. You just go nodding your head whilst the guy you're interning under spews legal jargon. Then, when he disappears, you google everything he has said, and feel stupider by the second.
I should read more cases and legal crap, as opposed to fiction. THAT is why they don't stock fiction in the university library.

I cannot fathom how people actually allow people to affect them. It really is beyond me--how can someone as detached, carefree, wild, adventurous and commitment-phobic as me, actually feel?
Maybe I am not that unconventional after all. Maybe I've been so caught up in those soap-opera superficialities that are whittled out of social stigmas, that what is so real just slipped from my fingers. Maybe I give in too soon. Maybe I'm too blunt. And maybe the solution does not lie here.
There's a someone I miss very much. If she was here, things would be so different. She was the least judgmental person I've ever known, and very compassionate and kind. I miss our long, late-night spiritual conversations. I miss her room, which always smelled of Calvin Klein. I miss the aesthetic, instrumental music she played. I miss the dim lighting, open balcony, and her skinny, raggedy pillow. I miss the lemon Smirnoff and mess-chicken that we (I) greedily devoured in her room. I miss those conversations that went on for hours together. We'd speak about Gandhi, Buddhism, world-peace, international politics, people, spiritual stuff and anything that was non-university related. She was the least superficial and materialistic person I've known, and the most fun. She was just so real, too good to be true. She never judged anyone, including the people who were not so kind to her. She always saw the good in people, and never disliked anyone.
I miss her so much. She would have made this place so much better for a lot of people. If you ever read this post, you should know how much you've touched me, and what a big difference your absence has made to me. You should know that I've learnt so much from you, and
I wish you didn't leave. I wish you had stayed on, and your presence would have made this semester a whole lot easier for so many people. And I hope you forgive me for detaching myself, briefly. When I'm ready, I'll get back.