The Gypsy...

The only thing I say when I get those credit card/ insurance/ mobile offer/blah blah calls is, "Not interested." But I couldn't put down the phone this time. He was offering me another credit card I didn't need. But his, "Ma'am it's sales month end, can I please come today", and I couldn't just say, "Not interested"! :)

I have never done sales, nor do I think I ever can( and I always admire people who can), so I don't know their pain firsthand. But I do know someone who does this for a living, hopefully not for long, and somehow, I just couldn't cut the call. Weird.

35%

Dear October,


How I love you! Muahh! You're the best! :)


Much love,
A

Her Man...

From the day she met him, she wanted to please him. What made her want to please him, she did not know. She didn't spend any time thinking about it either. All her energies were directed in finding out how she could please him. All she ever wanted was for him to think her as the best, brightest, most beautiful. She routinely dreamt of being handed some kind of award by him, something to show that he was happy with her. Most of the times it was a big bone, the likes of what Suzie had. She much envied Suzie for her bone, but Dolly knew she was close to being the best dog her master could have. And that she would have a bigger bone than Suzie did. One day.  

White...

It's amazing how a simple hairband can make you feel good.

I should wear it more often.

*****

I miss your childhood.

A Landscape Like None Other...

"For the special thrilling quality of their friendship was in their complete surrender. Like two open cities in the midst of some vast plain their two minds lay open to each other. And it wasn't as if he rode into hers like a conqueror, armed to the eyebrows and seeing nothing but a gay silken flutter--nor did she enter his like a queen walking on soft petals. No, they were eager, serious travellers, absorbed in understanding what was to be seen and discovering what was hidden--making the most of this extraordinary absolute chance which made it possible for him to be utterly truthful to her and for her to be utterly sincere with him." 
— Katherine Mansfield


*****
"The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind."
— Katherine Mansfield


*****
"The pleasure of all reading is doubled when one lives with another who shares the same books." 
— Katherine Mansfield

Little Things...

A once asked me. I couldn't put it in words then. Here it is....

It's when their smallest and silliest things makes you smile in the middle of that boring office meeting, or even while you're walking to the garage. It's when the little things they do that gets you mad, their little habits drive you crazy. It's when you can argue your heart out with them. It's when you want to steal a kiss when they're sleeping, it's when you look at them and smile, unknowingly. It's when you find them adorable even when they're angry at you. It's when you can share anything with them without worrying if they'll misunderstand, when you want to share everything with them. When you want to know everything about them, even silly things, especially the silly things. It's when you want to hear all their stories. It's when you wrap them around your body and still feel like they are not close enough. It's when their little quirks will make you swoon. It's when you want to hold their hand when walking together, when you want to do big and small things that'll make them happy. It's when what makes them sad makes you sad too and it's when you imagine the joy on their face when you gift them something they badly wanted. When you plan your holidays with them in mind and it's when the world looks brighter and beautiful, the flowers colourful and sky exquisite. It's when the morning seems good to awaken to and it's when you're happy without any reason.

You know it's love.

The Bear Who Ate My Cake...

There are somethings you shouldn't change for even loved ones. Like, your morning tea brand.

*****
I wonder if people pause and wonder what they're doing with their lives. I mean, do these people I see in the canteen and in the hallways, happy doing what they're doing? Or they're just working cause it pays well? Are there people amongst those groups who have different dreams but are chained to their jobs now? Either cause getting out of comfort zone is difficult or then maybe cause going for their dreams is risky. I wonder if they were all given a chance, would they go back, pursue their dreams and then take up responsibilities of family and kids.

Last night on KBC, the lady who won 12lakhs, she hated wearing a saree. But she was married now and belonged to a middle class family. A housewife.While husband told her she looked beautiful in a saree and he'd much prefer her in one, her wish was to wear pants. And it's sad that that defined her. An unfulfilled wish.

I wonder how many of us are stifling our dreams like this. Either by coercion or by choice.

I hope we are not defining our lives by our unfulfilled wishes but by our dreams...

*****
I think it would be wonderful if people along with their names told you about their dreams during introductions.

"Hi, my name is hodophile and my dream is to travel all over the world."

I think it'll be so much fun if people told you about their dreams. Instead of their jobs and families.

Wow. I like the idea!

******
I want to help someone make their dream come true. One of those before-you-die things.

Butterfly Wings & Bee's Knees...

The more I listen to human beings the more convinced I become that the ability to hold an intelligent conversation is a special gift, to be had by only a few.

And it baffles me to no end that we aren't worshipping writers/authors** instead.

It's woeful. Really.


**Not the likes of Arundathi Roy.

*****
I now know how it feels to be a guy whose girlfriend is jabbering nonsense all the time. And specially after a tiring day when she's blabbering about some random girl/guy you don't give a rat's ass about? I know how you feel. I know how you wish that she'd just shut up. And I know what a difficult predicament you find yourself in when she doesn't. I now know what it means to "zone out".

And dear men, you have my sincere apologies and heartfelt sympathies. And coming from a girl, you don't need to feel guilty about how you feel.


Also, I promise I shall never do the same to you again, ever.

*****

I want to date a writer. Atleast for enough number of days. I am just scared he'll correct my every second word. And that'll be the end of our romance. But still, I think it'll be hot. 

Any writers around? I have a wonderful writing desk next to the window. 

Desk - Music and Sound Design from Aaron Trinder  Film:Motion:Music on Vimeo.

A Believable Cake...

The fact that I don't like chocolate as much always makes me feel less like a woman.


*****
It's actually fun challenging your beliefs, the ones you held close to your heart all along. It's fun when you revisit them and realise how silly you have been so far.

*****
There are people who'll never hurt you. Some are just incapable of hurting others. But some, they know how broken you really are and wouldn't dream of hurting, lest you break further. While the first are good people, the second one, they love you, even if they don't say so.

*****

And doesn't the word "Succinctly" sound like a come-on? 


*****
I miss having Praveen comment on my blog. Pballs, come over and comment sometime and make a little girl happy? Won't you please?

Miss having you around :)

*****
I think I am awesome. 

You've Seen the Worst...

You wrote down something once and I read it and I fell in love with you. And when the time came, when it happened, I wanted you to say those lines to me. I waited and waited. You never did.

You never did.

Woollen Socks...

*Typical cho-chweet girlie alert*

I am positive the only thing that can induce me into having/adopting kids is clothes.

Those little clothes! Oh you must see them! They are chooooooooooo c-u-t-e! I swear, I don't like kids, but their clothes? Those little woollen socks, like little ones, they are so darling, I could eat them. And those little lacy tiny frocks! Oh my god...I swear I could just adopt a little girl right now so I could dress her up! 

After full 15 years went to the same store (which is now bigger and jazzier) that my parents would take us to for buying our Diwali clothes. Bought Indian wear for the nephew AND did not, dear blog, you have to hear this, did not buy a SINGLE thing for myself! This is a record! Somewhere in an alternate nicer Universe I am being felicitated right now! Like really, I did not buy a single thing for myself! Am I like the best aunt or what?

The bad news however is that I found one reason to have kids. Scary. Like really, dude, I am growing up too fast for my liking. I need to stay away from kiddie clothes! Now!

A Cinderella Dream...

Sometimes I wish I was one of those million girls, simple. Who wanted nothing extraordinary from life. A simple girl who could fall in love with a simple guy, have an ordinary career, get married, have kids and raise them to be good citizens and lead a simple undramatic uncluttered uncomplicated life. Yes, sometimes I wish for mundane. Sometimes I wish that simple, common, ordinary made me happy. Sometimes I wish I didn't expect so much from life, from people, from herself. Cause you see, I fail at times. Miserably. Life does too. People around me disappoint from time to time. But I still continue wishing for more.


Sometimes I wish I wasn't as complicated as I have made myself. I have a habit of complicating even the simplest of things. Sometimes I wish I could settle. That I didn't crave for exrtaordinary. That I didn't want the greatest love, most extraordinary people in my life. That I didn't want to save the world. That I didn't want to make a difference. That I didn't have these high standards for myself that I fail to live upto most of the time. Root of my misery really.


And I have tried. I have tried to be simple. I have tried to blend myself in the sea of common. But the thing is, once you know there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, sunshine just doesn't cut it. Once you peer into the wishing well and see all the wonderful toys out there,  you can not go back to wanting plain ordinary from life.


The curse of the know?

The Business of Business...

When P told me sometime back that Hyderabad had one of the largest Marwari population, I did not believe him. Call it ignorance, but I thought, Hyderabad? Heck no! What would a Marwari do in a Muslim dominant city?


I was curious, for the Marwari community always fascinated me. You can say I have grown up with Marwaris. From kindergarten to 8th grade, all my friends were Marwaris. Boys and girls alike. My childhood best friend ofcourse was a Marwari. I really learned how to cook under Priyanka's mom's guidance. Aunty was not only beautiful, resourceful but a great cook. Out of 7, I ate at Priyanka's house on atleast 5 days.You can say I literally lived at Priyanka's house. I think I have always admired the Marwari community, cause everyone was always learning something, doing something. I don't remember a single time when I was at Priyanka's house or R's house or any of my Marwari friend's house and the women were sitting idle, gossiping. They would gossip no doubt, which women don't? but they would all the time be doing something simultaneously. Their terraces will always have papads drying, or bottles of pickles. Their kitchens always bustling with activity and their drawing rooms always full of women making something or men discussing business.


I was always eager to learn and Aunty was happy to have one more student. From learning how to make Guava sabji (very yummy trust me!), to learning how to make deity clothes and jewelry(link), to how to use betel nuts to make Rangoli, to the art of cutting fruits, gardening, painting, needle work, to even the art of storing clothes(trust me it is an art!)...I could go on and on and on. Marwari women are like a box of wonderful learning. Learning under Aunty was literally like pursuing a mini homescience course. And these women pass all this wonderful skills from one generation to another by sharing it within the community. If one aunty knows something different, all other women will send their daughters to her to learn. While the boys are sent to work under other successful men from the community, to learn how to do run a business, women are sent to learn how to run a house. It's like an apprenticeship. They have such strong communities, no one is one single family. And everyone shares knowledge freely within the community.


Coming back to the point, I actually should not have been surprised. Marwaris, I found out have a strong presence in Hyderabad and Kolkata, two cities I never thought possible. You have to go back to understand why. Back to pre-independence days  when Bombay and Calcutta were two famous trading ports. When Hyderabad had rich Nizams who needed these money-lending Marwari bankers. You have to understand one thing about Marwari's, where there is trade and an opportunity to make money, you'll find a Marwari there.


This always reminds me of this story of my local baniya. Prakash and I went to the same tuitions in class 9th and 10th, which was right next door to his father's grocery shop. While I never spoke to him, I always felt bad for Prakash. The rich boys and mini-skirt wearing girls always made fun of him. Soon after 10th he started working at his father's store. And for the first few months, every time I went to buy a pen or notebook, he would feel shy. But by the time I joined engineering, he was already married.By the time I graduated they had already opened another store in the nearby area. They never hired anyone local. If more people were needed, cousins were called from back home to help. Present day, two sons and one cousin now run three shops, each independently. The funny thing, and something I totally admire, is that while this Marwari family came here and flourished in this small residential area, there was another foodmarket store, the likes of Spencer's which opened at the same time right next to their shop. By the time this family was opening their second grocery store, the big foodmarket had to shut down. They were going in loss. What a funny thing isn't it? The big chain store run by the local family couldn't stand competition with a small almost poor baniya family who had migrated to this city from a village somewhere in Rajasthan. That defines the spirit of this community to me. These people will flourish anywhere they go.



And having grown up with these resourceful industrious people, I totally recommend having atleast one marwari friend. Trust me, you'll come out learning so much, so much, you'll be amazed.

Dichotomy...

Getting waxing done while listening to Jazz? Not recommended. It will multiply pain by 10 times.

*****
Having hot chai on a rainy evening-6 rupees.
Having hot chai on a rainy evening while watching a hot guy run in a wet white shirt? Priceless :)

*****
I never thought it was possible. But remember my one picture a day project? It's now 10 pictures a day project. I hated being photographed and now I can't stop clicking my pictures :|

*****
My mother bought 20 sweaters for my nephew to be couriered to the US (like really to the US?). And what did she buy for me? Nothing. I don't even get a monkey cap!

My nephew better think I am the greatest and bestest aunt in the whole wide world for all the sacrifices I have made for him!

*****
I always wanted to save the world and I just realised I actually am saving the world! By choosing not to be a doctor, I did save many lives. Thank me already!

*****
I want to live on a farm for sometime and raise pigs so I can say, suar ke bacho without offending anyone's feelings. Suar ke bacho, sounds nice, no?

*****
I want to atleast once eat rabbits. They look so soft and fluffy and yum. But only white rabbits. I am quite racist that way.

*****
I am planning a trip to the Golden Temple and I just found out that you have to take a dip in one of the sacred pools (sarovar) there before you enter the holy temple. I am all for dips in sacred pools, but what I am freaked out about is that you have to take the dip naked! Yes. I will have to go naked in the pool, in front of hundred other women.

When I voiced my concerns to G, who's taking me to Amritsar, all she had to say was, "there's a first time for everything."

Love Has No Where To Go...

I wish I knew for sure that I would see you again. I want to pick out the prettiest smile and keep it safe.

*****

Unspoken words fascinate me. I think they are both beautiful and powerful. I think they make for some of the best conversations between two people. 

Speak those words love. 

They'll drill a hole in your heart.

*****

From passion to this unfamiliar emotionlessness. It's a whole new strange ground. It's weird when indifference takes place of love. How is it possible?

*****

Some people will inspire the Shakespeare in you and some people? They will just make you forget everything  you learnt about joining words to form a decent sentence. They'll take you to an island and drop you there. And alone, you'll be lost. You'll struggle to find words for your feelings and no matter how hard you try, you'll sink anyway. You'll come off worse instead. Realize the danger of the situation and just shut up. But the trouble is, they make you want to talk. They go by the name of Heartless. 

*****

It breaks my heart when I lie to you.

Blue Coloured Walls...

When I woke up today morning, little did I realise the nightmare that woke me up was not just a dream. That someone from family indeed left us. I think I would like to believe that you visited me in my dream and blessed me one last time. I am sorry I couldn't be a good granddaughter. But I promise I'll try to be a better daughter. I hope you rest in peace aaji.

Darling Orange, Let's Elope!

(Long post. Feel free to skip)

The other day I heard someone say that she wants to be a CEO someday. And I was like, wait, how come *I* never dreamed of being a CEO? I mean, yes I always wanted a fabulous career where I get to wear Prada and carry a Birkin to work with a city view from a three inch thick carpeted office with rosewood desk and a leather chair with a mini-bar in the corner, but heck, WHY did I never dream of being a CEO!

And I realised I always dreamt of having love instead. That was my dream as a little girl. Not a CEO, a wife. Which is shocking considering how scared I am of marriage. And hated men for my entire teenage life. And still don't like kids much***. But hey! like they say, give a capricon girl a good marriage over a good career and she'll start drafting her resignation letter, I guess it no surprise then. And yes, I don't believe in astrology.

Anyway, M has been behind my life for me to get married. Like I am pull-my-hair-out frustrated with his "Shaddi kar lo yaar". And so owing to the fact that he has loads of friends I asked him to look for a guy instead of just giving me some mindless marriage gyaan. Like I can write a thesis on marriage too dude! Who needs free consultation? And so I drafted a list. A list of my must-haves. That should shut up him nice I thought. Here goes!

He has to lurrrve reading. Sorry, I never had this as a requirement, but I realized it's necessary. I remember this one time S told me he was reading a book, which in itself was a miracle. He hated reading anything that was 2 paragraphs long. So I, all excited, asked him which book! And he said Chetan Bhagat. Yes, yes I am a snobbish. But that broke my little book heart. It killed me to know that while I was *trying* to read Goethe, he was reading Chetan Bhagat. Like really? Chetan Bhagat? (but hey I still loved you!)

He has to love travelling. There's no fucking way I am settling for this. I'll marry a dog and take him on road trips, but if I don't find a man who loves travelling, I am not marrying. Period.

He has to love food but hate cooking and more importantly must know how to appreciate. I hated that S could cook so well. When do I get to show off then? And if he also loves cooking, there's going to be competition. He's always going to claim his stupid salad is better than my strawberry delight in front of the guests. No way lettuce, I am not sharing my limelight, I want it all baby! But yes, he can clean the kitchen. I am quite nice that way, see? I'll even do a 9 and 1/2 weeks if he promises to clean the kitchen every day.

And appreciation, well, since the time I started cooking, my dad has never ever said I cook well. The only way we know he loves my cooking is cause he always takes a second helping, which is unusual for him. I like cooking for people but they also better appreciate the cooking, unlike my mom, who'll say, "yeah it's okay, the carrots are still undercooked but you can make this for my next kitty party, my friends will love it." Yes. Thank you mom. You see? I am literally cooking for an ungrateful bunch of people. I would like some gratitude from my better half or he's eating in a restaurant.

Who lets me dress up. Yes, I am tired of men who want me to "just wear jeans". I want to wear a "dress". Yes, I am insecure. So till I find my inner beauty, let me wear that red number, ok gingerbread? Once I stumble upon my beautiful soul I promise I'll wear a sack.

He has to be a good conversationalist. I love talking. So I should ideally look for a great listener. This does not make sense, but whatever. I wake up everyday hoping to have a good conversation, and if I am marrying ever, he better be good at talking.

This one is so clichéd, but he has to be funny. I am not funny, so there has to be someone making the jokes right? Not at my expense though. Didn't I say I am insecure? If you are going to laugh at my ass you're sleeping in the bathtub. Simple.

He has to be passionate about something. Anything. Music, sports, Mac, the colour black, cars, Star wars, DC comics, butterflies, match boxes and sigh,  I'll even take diamonds (A girl can't be too choosy after all eh?). But men who have no passion in life are as interesting as a man talking about masturbation. No one wants to hear them.

And the last one, and this is like the filter test, he has to be intelligent. I am not. So the only hope for my kids is that their father has some gray matter. I realise it's a 50-50 thing, I mean what if they take after me? In that case I have a plan. I am giving them up for adoption. First come first serve basis. If the husband does not like it, he goes on sale too.

That's it. I promised it won't be huge. I am a girl of simple tastes after all.

***Every weekend we have these video chats with my sister where the nephew gets to show off and everyone gushes over his tiny arm movements. And where mom chastises me that I am a very horrible aunt who never talks to him, the kid. And I am like, what the hell, he can not even hear me! Or see me! He doesn't even know who I am or what I am talking. What am I going to talk to him anyway? Did you have lunch today honeybun? And oh you had oatmeal and gripe water! What a wonderful lunch you had! Isn't mommy the best? What? Why should I baby talk? I'll talk to him when he grows up and can understand me. Till then I am just going to laugh every time he tries to sit and falls on his diaper-clad tush. Haha, it's quite cute.

Now I Lay Thee Down...

I think being in love takes practice.

Or maybe it's some skill I am yet to acquire. Something I have not mastered yet.

I wondered for days if what I am feeling now was right. Was it one of those ways masked to help me "cope"? Misplaced feelings? Or anger wrapped up in something else? Was it a wrongly diagnosed symptom? I wonder if today you know how I feel, I wonder if you'd be hurt. I hope that maybe you'll feel comfort instead. I know you felt guilty, and I hope you can feel happy instead cause I see what you meant.

I know now what you meant when you said you did not want me to change. But the sad thing is that I changed. I changed so much. I changed beyond recognition. They all told me that I was changing. And I felt happy when they said that. Love is such a stupid emotion, no? I should have been wary, but I instead embraced it. I wanted to be perfect for you, but little did I realise I was instead getting closer to imperfect. That I didn't need to change. That I was good, the way I was.

And it took me 365 days to pull myself out from the debris, rubble made of up broken little pieces of me. And when I did, I was shocked to see what had become of me. And it's only now that I can feel alive again. That I can feel the wind flow over my body, that I can breathe.

On one hand I am happy that I could love someone so, truly. That when you got hurt I felt physical pain. That I loved you more than I loved myself. But in that process I forgot who I was, or what I stood for, or what I liked or disliked. I forgot what made me, me.

I am happy that I made you happy, but I dislike myself for letting your rejection matter so much that I started hating myself. That I stopped loving myself. If only I had shinier elbows, unblemished knees, that if only I was a born a few days later. That I thought I was unworthy of any man's love. That even when someone wanted to love me, I thought I was not good enough.

I find it shocking that a woman of my generation should feel like this. Am sure you would too. That I should think like this. How am I better than the women of my mother's generation? Atleast in their defense, they truly were helpless, restrained, bound. What excuse do I have? Why should I feel the need for a man's love to validate myself? Why should your "you're an amazing woman" matter so much? Why should I need your[man's] hand by my waist to feel desirable? Why should I feel helpless without your presence in my life? How could I define my future with your aspirations? How could I paint my walls with your dreams? I don't like the fact that I fell for it. That I am just like all those countless women I despised. I called them weak. How am I any different? And I am supposed to be. Cause I know better.

I find myself in a difficult spot. On one side, I want to love a man, to be completely his, and on the other, I want to retain my individuality. I want to be his woman, but I still want to be me (and I know it's possible). On one side I want a man's love and on the other, I want to bulldoze over all these ancient temples we have built for the men. On one side I want to be soft and feminine and on the other, there is this belligerent side of me that can slice open a man's heart should he treat me any less. I need to find a balance. Am I the soft peachy woman who melts in a man's arms? Or am I the strong one who does not need a man's arms to hold her steady? I realise neither. I am somewhere in the middle.

Being in love is lot of hard work. Atleast for me it is. I hope the next time is easier. And I hope I will not be like clay like the women of my mother's generation were and the women before theirs, but instead like steel. I'll bend and I'll fold, but I will not cleave. I will not crumble into dust again. That I will always be me.

P.S: I am really touched that some of you get worried for me but this is just to let you all know that I am not unhappy and that I am not going to jump off some cliff any time soon or slit my wrist and wait for all blood to drain out of my body. So relax, go get yourself a cup of tea or coffee or a peg of whiskey and enjoy your evening with a loved one or even a good book.

And if my not so cheerful posts make you feel bad for me, then erm, I am looking for the perfect cheerful yellow dress, buy me one? 

Eryngium...

"Pretty is something you're born with. But beautiful, that's an equal opportunity adjective."

*****
People hate me when they meet me for the first time (and sometimes they continue to do so ever after, well, who's stopping them anyway?). And I realise it's because I am always challenging the world. To prove to me that their worthy enough.


I realise it's mighty arrogant of me to do so. I believe both my respect and love are precious and I certainly am not going to dole it out to any tom, dick or harry.


But all these past months, as I sat there with pieces of me, trying to glue me back, I realised, I wanted them to be nice to me too. Give me another chance. A second chance. A third chance. A fourth even.


I wanted them to understand me. To say, "It's alright. You're okay. I am not going to judge you." To accept me.


I guess I am never going to judge anyone so quickly and as harshly ever again. You really can not know anyone. You really can not know where they are coming from. Why they behave the way they do. Their eccentricities, their fetishes, their interests, their likes, their dislikes, their anger, their love. No, not as quickly. Not so superficially, you can not look and know. You'll never know why they made the decisions they did. Why they made the choices they did. You'll never know what choices they had in front of them. If they had a choice at all.


You'll never know unless you stop judging them.


Give someone another chance today. Maybe to the one you think does not deserve it. Maybe he's the one who really needs it.

Miracles...

"Good relationships don't just happen, they take time, patience and two people who want to be together."

An Empty Night...

I have started to believe that the only reason women get married is so that they can have someone permanent whom they can bitch and whine to about the day. And for that unparalleled pleasure, they will even take the trouble of making a delicious meal so that the husband just shuts up and eats and the woman gets her uninterrupted 1 hour to simply jabber.

I really do.

Cause anyone who has seen two girls talk at the end of the day will understand why we need men. It's really painful when she wants to tell you "you know, what happened to me today?" when you also want to tell her, "but wait, guess what happened to me today!" We need men. We do. They are such good (deaf) listeners, it's wonderful.

*****

Diamonds are a girl's best friend. Dogs are a man's best friend. Now, who's the smarter sex?

I think men win this hands down. There simply can not be a comparison no? I have never had a pet-sometimes I wish I did-but even so, I have seen friends with their animals and the love these creatures have for us humans, there's no way a cold stone can replace the warmth of an animal's unconditional love.

A diamond's brilliance might you a high, but at the end of the day when you open that door and there's your pet wagging his tail, waiting to greet you, jumping all over you, licking you, or that cat who not  so clamorously demonstrates her love for you, maybe by quietly sitting next to you, rubbing her body against yours, you know if no one, you're wanted by these. And at the end of the day, you don't need bling and glitter, everyone needs to be feel loved and wanted.


Men got it right this one time.

Kill Joy...

Dear Diary,

Don't be shocked if one of these days I really just murder someone! Like slice open their body with a blunt knife, rip out their heart and tear out their intestines with my bare manicured hands!!!

Cause really, I need to stop being so sensitive. I mean the smallest and silliest things will make me cry. WHY? I was always a very sensitive person, but now, it is pissing me off. Big time.


Take today morning. I am riding to work and I see a herd of cows on the road. A very common sight in our country right? Nothing unusual. But then, a few meters away, I see another cow, limping. Way behind the herd, it poor thing was limping, and I cried. I mean how can the rest of the cows be mean enough to leave the poor injured cow behind?! Why can't they all match their pace with the poor cow?

Then this video made me cry!




I had to sit myself down and talk to myself and make myself understand that there was nothing, remotely nothing, in that video that warranted tears. And I was like, but those poor kids! They are so smart! And this is so awesome! In 10 years, we'll have a whole new world of educated kids...and I am overwhelmed with happiness and the tears start to flow again.


And it's not even that time of the month when I cry just because my hormones are screwed up.


No no no! I want to be all bitchy and heartless. I am tired of this crying!!!!!! I want to stop being so freaking sensitive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I think I know what my problem is. You know these days I am always talking to G and like I said before, she's one sweet girl. She wouldn't harm a fly even and I am all nice these days thanks to her. I go to the Gurudwara with her, almost daily, and I pray and I behave like a good girl. But dear god! I miss bitching! And I miss making fun of people! And I miss being snobbish. Gawwwwwwwd! I miss it!

*sigh*


You know Dear Diary, being nice is tough. Very very tough. Don't try it. 

Dream...

A Ransomed Love...

Garima and I had just met. It was our first year in engineering and we were roommates. For a few months we were staying in a facility outside the college premises and I remember walking down the road late in the evening, I think we were going for dinner, talking about men and romance novels. I sighed and oohed, at 18 I used to naively dream about prince charmings and perfect men.


Garima, never the one to shy away from pointing out when I am being stupid, said, "Why would a perfect guy fall in love with you? Are you perfect?"


And I remember saying something like, "I know. Why would he indeed? I am not perfect, far from it, but I am trying." Naive again, yes?


At 26, I know this much. There is no perfect someone and that I can not be perfect, that I will never be perfect. I am flawed and will remain so. I don't want a prince charming either.


What I am looking for is someone who has the same bunch of dreams as I do. Life would be perfect then (erm, I am still hankering after perfect).


And I do realize that it would be easier to find prince charming instead.

Recipe For A Disaster...

He was the centre of the room. Laughing. Joking. Talking. Surrounded by women.

She found him sexy. She could barely keep her hands to herself.

He turned towards her and asked her, "So, what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

"I sat on a camel once", She said.


*****
They saw each other every morning. She always came early to office. He made sure he was there before her, just to get a glimpse of her.

She was wearing a green salwar today. Black bindi, her shoulder length hair tied in a ponytail, with a few wisps framing her face. Red lips and kajal. 

It was all he could do. Stare at her till she got uncomfortable and increased her pace. 

One day he would marry her he thought.

One day she would complain about him to the head of security she thought.

*****

He was lonely. She was lost. They should have met. They never did. She never found her way to him and he settled for someone else. 

*****

The whole town was in darkness and it was pouring cats and dogs. She left the house without a trench coat or an umbrella. She wouldn't need those things where she was going. Dressed in all black, she stood on lane no.55. waiting for her fate. A speedy car crashed into her. They died on the spot. 

******

He sat on the wall waiting for her to come. She had promised she'd be there by  5 p.m. He knew she was late and that he should probably go now. He had anyway waited long. But he was not the one to give up so easily. He would wait for another 10 years.

******

"Why are you speaking to me! Why are you telling me all these things!" she screamed, "Don't you understand I am deaf?"

"Yes, and when will you realize," he yelled, "that I am not speaking to you?"

Theirs was a marriage. 

*****

They met through common friends. She was lonely. He was desperate.

She liked him. He just needed someone, anyone.

He was the devil in disguise.

She thought he was god-sent.

Lemon Drop...

What a darling dress this! Lemon and Orange print, what a wonderful idea! All you need is a wide brimmed straw hat and you're ready to conquer summer!

(Link)

A Christmas Thing...

If you love someone, the best way to appreciate them is to picture your life ahead with them.

Checkered...

I think I am hopelessly and irrevocably in love with men.


*****
Dear October, it's all in your hands now. Be nice, please?

*****

You know what I like about myself? That I can fool all these people who look at you and think they can guess where you come from. Well, you know what? No one, not one single person could ever tell which region I come from. Among other things, people have called me a UP'ite, a Keralite, Marwari, Christian, Punjabi (weird huh?) and most of the times, Bengali. And I love it when they go, "Oh you're not from the north?", the baffled look on their faces when I tell them they're wrong :)

I guess I like it cause I don't like when people read me so easily. And I have gone out of my way to cloak my real self in public. Sometimes to maintain an element of mystery and sometimes just to protect myself. Either way, I like :)

*****
There's this friend who's crazily, atleast he says so, in love with his fiancée. Their wedding is scheduled sometime in December and from the looks of it, they seem like a happy couple. What I find interesting is that this guy is completely head over heels in love with Priyanka Chopra, the actress. And funny thing, his fiancée is complete opposite of Priyanka Chopra. She's quite healthy, and I am being nice here. Why I find this interesting is because I would never desire something and go for something opposite. I love smart men. If I look back, all guys I have loved and liked have been intelligent. Maybe weird, but definitely intelligent. I know I could never ever fall in love with a dumb or even an average smart guy. And I believe same holds true for most people. You don't lust after blue eyed women and marry an African. Or you don't desire a tall man and marry instead someone who is 4 feet short. Or you don't dream about big brown eyes and marry a Korean instead. 


I am not saying he should marry a Priyanka Chopra lookalike. But if he lusts after her sexy curves, how does he find someone with no curves sexy? I am not saying fat or healthy women are not sexy. I personally find healthy women sexier than thin, skinny ones. Some fat is necessary! But his case, I find it weird.

Magical Moods & Dark Rooms...

His was the colour of blue. Confident and happy. He wore his mask well.

She wore white. Pure and innocent, like a daisy.

But beneath it, they wore identical hearts. Black.

*****

They met at the cemetery.

He had killed his wife. Car accident.

She had killed her husband. Poisoned coffee.

They thought it was a sign from the heavens.

They lived happily ever after.

*****

"You have a strange house," she said, "There are no windows and your plants talk."

"Yes, but you can see the stars in the night", he said.

She looked up. She knew he loved her.

*****

They both loved words.

He used them as a trade, to sell and to buy.

She thought they were too precious to be traded. She saved them only for loved ones.

One day he bought her.

She never spoke again.

*****
He left her on a rainy afternoon.

He returned one summer evening.

"Go away," she said, "there's nothing left for you here. My heart is empty."

"It can not be empty," he said, "there was nothing in it to begin with."