The Twisted Twenties

By Deepali Junjappa

As Baz Lurhman once said "The most interesting people are the ones who still don't know what they want to do."

It's okay to be confused in your twenties. It's okay to NOT know. Are we screwed? The hell we are. Mimi Hittalmani navigates the twisted twenties and finally concludes that it's ok to goof up, jump courses, change careers, chat up four guys and bloody well get wasted in life!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dipu Darko
• Release date: Jan 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386804093

Book preview

Deepali Junjappa

To my parents for being kind, loving and obnoxious

COPYRIGHT-Deepali Junjappa

CHAPTERS

PROLOGUE—It’s okay to get dumped in your twenties

Chapter  1

LIMPING  BACK—When you’re twenty you still have a chance!

Chapter  2

SAMPLING WORK—-Meeting ‘Ignatius Vito Corleone’

Chapter  3—-

THE C.V—-Never a dull moment

Chapter  4

TWILIGHT ZONE – ‘Welcome to the brother hood.’

Chapter 5

WRITING FOR TV——A Fantasy is NOT a Mytho!

Chapter  6

CHANNEL OF TUMORS——-—Meeting the owl and the penguin

Chapter  7

NIGHT OUT————-Mayhem at the Republic!

Chapter  8

AUDITIONS-—Finding the heartthrob for the nation

Chapter  9

FIRST DAY OF SHOOT—Designers falling from skies!

Chapter  10

THE PARTY—Inviting Tight assed women

Chapter 11 –

ROUGH CUTS—Goings ons!

CHAPTER 12

DAY BREAK – Escape into the Sea

CHAPTER 13

Blast from the past-The return of the prodigal

Chapter 14

HORROR SHOW——Meeting the mother of ‘S’ serials

CHAPTER 15

FIRST EPISODE—-Seeing Your name on an LCD screen

Chapter 16

THE APPROACHING OF DOOM—Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak!

Chapter 17

DOOM ARRIVES-—A Jackass and a Peadophile

Chapter 18

A SUDDEN SURPRISE—-Return of the dark Knight

Chapter 19

OUT OF HELL—Feeling vainglorious again

EPILOGUE—-A Manual for the Twisted Twenties

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PROLOGUE

It’s okay to be confused in your twenties.

It’s okay to NOT know.

Ok peeps, why don’t we get straight to the point

Do we really know what we want in our twenties?

Yes and No.

Yes, because we’re bombarded with multiple options and can choose anything we desire and No because we want to try everything once.

Are we confused? The hell we are.

Of course, we do know that it takes time, sometimes years to hone that special something and for that you need to go through life, savour multiple experiences, dive into that whole Sex, drugs and rock n roll phase.

Or as someone rightly said; just BURN.

Yes, you need to burn before you turn gold.

My burning process started with the parents, who’d decided way before I was conceived what their daughter will become and what she’ll achieve.

But before I begin to chart my ‘Burning Train’ journey a little something about THE parents; for they were no ordinary humans.

My parents were the IIT kind of family. In other words, Mom and Dad were super nerds. My Dad came FIRST all his life and my Mom came second only once. These super achievers met under strange circumstances. To this day my father regrets that honorable piece of action and wishes he wasn’t present when she almost came under a truck and he dragged her away to safety. Because, right after they locked eyes and chemistry happened, atoms and molecules collided, biology took place, hormones exploded and three years later I was born.

Their unison duly flowered inside dim lit Chemical labs of IIT Kanpur where they

worked on endothermic and exothermic reactions. At this point he’d already figured my mother’s penchant for potassium per magnate and thereby sprayed it generously over the counter.

Their fondness for strange, exotic compounds led them to sniff unknown chemicals late into the night which could possibly have included body odors, pheromones and stuff like that. But most importantly what really brought them close was that one word which they obsessed about. They were in love with the word ‘Plan’; everything was coded under Plan A, Plan B and so on and so forth.

So, when they had me, they had the entire chemical blueprint laid out. I was their hundred-year plan from day one.

‘Mimi will learn ballet first then study math’s so that she can go to Harward.’

Mom would screech.

‘No, no no. She should train in classical Bharat Natyam and then proceed to Massachusetts.’

They worked on me as if I was some kind of designer molecule. So, I was duly trained in the arts and sciences and as the years passed the fumes in the chemical lab became the permanent backdrop to my life.

By age ten, they figured, I loved watching stars at night, so perhaps astronomy was it.

By thirteen it was physics for I had designed a silly lemon clock for a Science competition.

By sixteen, they were quite sure it was not Maths, Chemistry or Physics since I plugged in all the above.

For some unfathomable reason the tenth standard board exams are the number one make or break moment in everyone’s life.  Every kid will look back at that day when the results are out and more than praying for better marks you probably prayed that your parents didn’t get a heart attack.

I prayed for both.

I scored decently but I wasn’t what people called a Topper.

I think I was your average, normal, just around the block kinda kid. I read the same comics as my peers, watched similar movies and head banged to anything which the neighbours blared.  I wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier but neither was I the dimmest. I looked pretty decent since there were always boys trying to chat me up and I was pretty wired about the latest fads/trends and didn’t for sure cut a sorry picture at any social do. My friends circle was quite eclectic and I knew someone who got pregnant at fourteen. Guess, at the outset I looked like Jackie O but my soul was pledged to Axel Rose.  My interests  appeared regular but they soon got peppered with that special thing called ‘Curiosity’. I was always the curious cat and guess that truly shaped the course of my unique destiny.

Anyways, cut to—Three years later when I insisted on taking literature for my Bachelors degree, Mom looked glum and Dad was pale as potassium.

‘Why, why why literature?’ My mom look tortured.

Well, Literature was always somewhere at the back of mind. Hadn’t I read somewhere that a ‘Student of literature was a student of life.’ I knew I had something in me that was vaguely close to the realm of storytelling. I just needed to confirm that. So anyways, three years of literature passed and after quoting, Byron, Keats and Shakespeare I decided I’d had enough, maybe a less literary zone was more of my calling.

So I plunged into all sorts of Diploma courses starting with Animation and Graphics. Now unless you try different things how the hell would you know what’s right or wrong for you? Right?

Absolutely!

So, when my mom made references to my over achieving cousins, the one who ‘Topped’  IIT and MIT both, the one who grated his way to some famous business school and that highly annoying pest who managed a six figure salary at twenty four, it made my blood go all over the place like literally.

I needed to tell her that it’s a different ball game, a new world order. The internet changed our lives and gave us that special gift called Options.

Twenty years back kids didn’t have options. Their choices narrowed down to two or three subjects; If you enjoyed Science you became a doctor/engineer and if you liked arts you became a lecturer at some government college.

Today, millennials are bombarded with a zillion choices; from perky jobs, fast cars, fancy gadgets, boys, clutches, watches you name it.

Obviously if people call us confused it’s not our fault. We can’t help it if we want to try everything once and unless you try different things, how the hell will you know what you like.

As Baz Lurhman once said ‘The most interesting people are the ones who still don’t know what they want to do."

That kind of hit home and how, because at twenty-six I was still wavering, still figuring whether to open the green door or the red one though black is the ideal option.

I mean like seriously, at twenty your brains have only just begun understanding the world order. How can you map the entire road to your life? Unless you’re a creep with supernatural powers or an ex resident of One Tree Hill?

Like seriously?

And that brings me to the question of creative people and lovers of art and literature. That, Creativity can never spring from a business point of view. It cannot manifest itself from the marble corridors of some prestigious Business school.

For all those reasons and beyond, I slowly figured my calling which did border into writing so I guess it was sorted but the realm I was constantly getting confused was the realm of that elusive thing called Love, Romance, boyfriends etc.

And perhaps this is the beginning of that journey when I finally realized that the first man you kiss need not be your last and the last man you dumped can transition to something more educational.

For obviously more is better.

Hence, I strongly believe that your twenties are the best time for exploring and experimenting. You need to meet an asshole to realize that the frog prince was more charitable and you need to date as many people as you can if you want to separate the wheat from the chaff, and these days mind you it’s Whole wheat!

Well, I think we’re almost there.

––––––––

Life is an ongoing drama!

It’s okay to get dumped in your twenties

At twenty most relationships are a disaster. It’s like taking baby steps towards many firsts, seconds and thirds. There’s always that niggling thought, is he really the one? Or maybe his friend is better?  There are no two ways about it. Even if you met a Zac Efron lookalike who treated you nice, you’d still be looking over his eyes, head and shoulder.

You’d be looking for holes in his jacket and waiting for that precise moment when he goofs up. After slipping in and out of weird courtships and arrangements in my teens, I was quite prepared to meet and ‘possess’ an actual boyfriend. (Or so I thought!) Someone I could parade around the college campus and make all the girls see green. Well, I did meet a few but then there’s always that ONE guy. The ONE that didn’t just get away but got away with all kinds of bullshit and I allowed that, I shamelessly, totally allowed that!

Ouch! That hurts, but let’s just say every girl recalls that one guy she’ll never forget or forgive! No. It’s not her first love or her second crush; it’s not even that cutie who escorted her to friendly neighborhood parties. It’s that toxic fungus ball that sent ripples to her heart and then squeezed her life juices by cheating with her BFF.

If you’re anywhere between twenty and twenty-seven you would have met this Moron by now. He’s right around the corner waiting to pounce on the next hapless victim.

Most girls are fatally attracted to this PROTO-TYPE and let me inform you, they are super injurious to health. More than nicotine. More than Alcohol. More than any god damned thing in the world!

Their modus operandi is straight and direct. They dazzle you with their mating antics and once they have you in their little trance, they make sure you’re tripping forever.  This insalubrious TYPE is usually found loitering around college canteens, dark corridors and dim lit chapels; the perfect hunting ground to prey on unsuspecting victims.

Well I still remember the first time my eyes fell on Garrick D. It was at Orientation day and everyone was checking everyone out. I must admit I was struck by the exquisite bone structure, soupy eyes and that Andrew Garfield smile. More than anything he looked noble, and more than noble he appeared kind. I instantly liked him. I always had a thing for such guys.

Couple of days later, I was quietly praying inside the chapel when I noticed someone clicking my snaps. I looked up to see this DEMI God with his latest SLR zooming into my soul, freezing me in some time capsule. Wait. Hercules had a twin who was a photographer?

‘The blue light looks magical on you.’ He said

‘What?’

‘Never mind. Just sit.’

‘So are you on Instagram?’ he asked.

‘I just opened my account.’

‘You’re just my type of gal.’

As he kept clicking my heart went bouncing over hills, vales, lakes and dales. As much as I tried to be cool, calm and collected, I just couldn’t bring myself to a state of sobriety. My nerves felt lighter, hormones flickered mischievously and a weird cosmic dance was raging within. I felt I was at a Rave and the DJ was gliding me towards a heady sunrise.  All in all, it didn’t feel natural and the more I thought about it, the more clouded my brain became.

To cut a long story; we soon became ‘couple’ of the day, month and year. We attended parties together, posted annoying lovey-dovey pics on FB; said ILU five times a day and totally set new standards in PDA by smooching openly inside the college chapel.

Wow! We were indeed quite exclusive and rightly so there were plenty of jealous beans around, ready to scorn and smirk but we didn’t give a damn and that was something that made us ‘Kewl’ and that’s why I fell in love with THE Garrick D in the first place.

The thing is when a guy does not give a damn to all that, it means a lot to the girl. It shows that he really cares about her, that he’ll go to the ends of the earth to buy her candy floss while the rest of the world burns in hell!

But as it happens much too often, the prickly thorn in my story was my own BFF Cheeki. Now Cheeki Chamundi not only had a disastrous name but also, she was quite the unpredictable chick. According to