A Short Guide To Being Pathetic

Caveat: Writing this at odd 2:30 am, expect a lot of ranting.

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It's funny how you can still feel lonely even with a house full of people.

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All right, if I am going to rant, let me get straight to it: I am not happy right now. Nothing more to say there. I don't know why things have to be so complicated, always, why can't for once there be no drama and life went on without any hiccups?

I hate fights. I am not like A, who can fight and then not speak for days with someone. I always had issues with not talking with loved ones. It just makes me feel...not complete. Not right. So while I sit in the living room, staring at the ceiling, I realised I am unhappy and bored of life. And I am hoping to spot a ghost or two today. That's the only way I can add some excitement back in my life.

What with the movie Talassh (which I found a huge letdown), I am hoping my unhappiness levels are high enough for a few good souls to drop by for a cuppa.

And then again, I have not felt this wrong or dissatisfied with my body ever. Not only have I gained considerable weight, just bordering on "fat", but also, I have been falling ill every week, without fail. Sometimes, it's your everyday flu, something it's Vertigo, sometimes it's gastroenteritis sometimes it's something else. It's like everything is crashing on my head and my body is crumbling under it.

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Matrimony, a topic that has never gone down well with me, is looming larger these days. A little comfort that some of best friends are also unmarried yet, helps, but still, I need to take that step, what with the 28th approaching in 9 days and all that.

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Sigh, so what do I need right now? A ghost or two maybe, but also some discipline in life. For a person like me who needs to have everything orderly around her, my life's in most disorderly state right now and I am not very pleased with myself. There are things that give me happiness and help me keep going, but still, I am tired of your same old.

I want to have experiences now. The other day we played Jenga at a friend's place and you know, after a long time I enjoyed something. I screamed and laughed and got excited about something, even if it was just removing a piece of wooden block from a stack, and a bit drunk too. But I did.

That made me realise that we, as a generation, have forgotten the good old ways of having fun. These days all people do is either go to malls and spend the entire day there, with kids and all. Or then go to same old clubs and drink and dance to vacuous music and get wasted. How else can we have fun? Why has life become suck a fucking bore? Or is it just me?

The other day the bored me was on the way to work and I passed a garden, shabbily kept garden, but anyone in Mumbai would appreciate that there is open space in the first place! Anyway, there were 13-14 year old kids playing blindman's  bluff(?), a sight I hadn't seen in years! Maybe as I am growing older I am regressing, but I want to have plain old fun. I used to be such a happy kid. What happened to that happy girl?

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So, I want to have fun again, I want to feel alive again, I want to have experiences. I want to explore, I want to experiment, I want to learn and grow and laugh and discover, exhilarate and be thrilled and be amazed, hear sounds again and feel the colours pop. I want to listen and not just hear and I want to notice the details. And I want to look forward to living. I almost felt the old temptation of playing with knife and your wrist. Call me a coward, but sometimes you just don't want a break from life.


But no, I am not giving up, I am going to have goals and not just spend day after day doing nothing. I am going to paint again. And cook. I used to take pride in my cooking and it used to bring me such joy, I realise I have not cooked in months, in fact, I have not cooked since I shifted to Mumbai. And I am going to go out and meet new people and be sassy and fun and not a wimp or a needy little girl. And I am going to put things in the right box, cause that makes me happy, that brings peace to my mind, knowing there's order in my life. It makes me, perhaps, feel like I have some control on the way things are in my life and right now, it feels like I am just flowing with where the current takes me.


Everyday I look in the mirror, I am saddened, this person I have become, this is not me. I was never like this. I was so proud of myself, now I am full of excuses. I am tired of begging for scraps. I am tired of chasing and wanting. And I am tired of being disappointed. Of myself.

So it's December, my favourite month of the year and I have a plan. And I am going to make sure this plan does not remain just a plan. And so, if not ghosts, will Santa please show up?

Madness...

*28 approaching soon. "What kind of woman do you want to be?", a question that has been on my mind for some time. Jittery.

 *For the first time in my life I am actually overweight. Super sad.

* Some people, some friends are indeed for life. I am so glad you're still here, somewhere, even if not fully there.

* Surprised how some memories are still so shockingly alive.

* I don't have much to say actually, but after a long time, I just felt like coming in here, sit in these warm, musty rooms with these old familiar walls, feel the rounded corners, run my hand over the dusty furniture. Let words drown everything. Maybe, just a place where I could feel warm and familiar today.

* The girl with rainbow of emotions.

 

Deep Dish...

I am busy trying to get that damned mojo back. In the mean time, take a gander at the archives if you miss me :)

How To Make Love Stay...

Who knows how to make love stay?

1. Tell love you are going to Junior's Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if loves stays, it can have half. It will stay.

 2. Tell love you want a momento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to paint a moustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay.

 3. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and assure love that everything is going to be all right. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning. ― Tom Robbins

I love this guy! :)

The Red Balloon...

Never Too Far From Crisis...

Officially changing my first name to "Drama".

Miss. Drama.

Suggestions for middle name?

A Void...

On days like these, nothing happens. I wake up late today, really late into the day, eat yesterday's dinner for lunch and begin watching a movie only to close the laptop five minutes later and nap again. I wake up and make some ginger chai and watch the 5pm sun shine on freshly washed green trees. It's a beautiful evening, but still, it feels like nothing's happening. I read. I realised I haven't read in the longest time. I read about baby carrots and how memories are really not that genuine, I read about the surfer boys in Puri and the poetic Mughal emperor who died in a foreign country. But still, time seems still. I make another pot of chai. I take the longest time to wash my hair today and now my hair smells of the Chinese shampoo. I make another cup of chai and google train schedule between Mumbai and Jammu. Did you know it takes 30 hours to travel from Mumbai to Jammu? I thought it would take a hell lot more. I salivate at all those awesome bags and shoes and dresses online. I don't buy anything, close the broswer and think about what I'd instead be doing right now. Nothing, it still feels like nothing's happening, time just doesn't seem to move. I get up and make dinner. I eat it alone. I read about emerging markets and paper clips. I decide to call it a day.

Come Away With Me...

It's that time of the year again! :)

I love this time of the year! :) Grey clouds, a view of lush green mountains and little water falls from the office balcony, unlimited ginger-lemongrass chai with hot samosas and pokoras, getting drenched in the rain with friends, and if I can, yes, even making paper boats and jumping in the puddles (this time the nephew will join too :)), driving on the expressway (the only time I feel like I am in Phoren), and then of course, watching the night, beautiful as it always is, become even more enchanting come rains, of sleeping snugly with the comforting pitter-patter sound of rain in your ears, of thunderstorms...somethings will be missed, like cuddling with your favourite person while watching the raindrops eventually become one...but others will remain same. Of just being indoors with no one but books for company. It's that time of the year again when I am the happiest :)

I must have posted Glosoli a couple of times on this blog, but I love it, and even more for the video:

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And oh no, sense prevailed :)

One Year In Mumbai...

This war has torn my heart...where does one go from here?

Postcards...

Locus Of Control...

“Good weather is like good women - it doesn’t always happen and when it does it doesn’t always last. Man is more stable: if he’s bad there’s more chance he’ll stay that way, or if he’s good he might hang on, but a woman is changed by children, age, diet, conversation, sex, the moon, the absence or presence of sun, or good times. A woman must be nursed into subsistence by love where a man can become stronger by being hated.” — Charles Bukowski

A woman gets her energy from knowing the man she loves, loves her back. And I have seen what loving someone day-in-day-out without getting that love back can do to her; at the end of it she'll become a hollow unit.

And at such a point, she should be filled up again, with love from family and friends and kisses from little kids***, hugs and sunshine and colours and warmth, flowers and music and laughter and the good bits of life, till such a time she's plump with joy for life again.

And then she must go out and love again.


***The kind that makes you feel accepted, what matters then if no one else is as crazy about you? This is enough.

Forget Not...

I won't speak to my parents/sister for days, but on days like these, all I have to do is hear my Dad's voice...I can hear age in his voice now...and nothing, not even the fact that the guy I love does not love me back breaks me as much, but the mortality? in Dad's voice does. And suddenly, it seems more urgent that I spend my time with my parents, who have loved me even when I been least lovable, than moping over someone who has never valued me no matter how much I have loved.

Bitter, maybe. Clarity on priorities, definitely.

An Octopus And A Pony...

I don't know how to put this, but I think I just realized my biggest flaw. And for your sake, I won't panic as much.

I Never Feel Earthquakes...

Do you remember back in the 90's the biggest problem men had when it came to dating was that talking to women scared the daylights out of them men? I remembering coming across a dozen articles everyday where someone had a brilliant advice how to break the ice-which usually was go-fucking-TALK-to-them. These days those articles have disappeared. We don't need them anymore, we now have the Internet.

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When I think about AB, I always remember the curt reply he gave me when I asked him if the Microprocessor lecture was cancelled; "apparently", was all he said and walked away like I was some lowly creature and he some God. He acted like one. At least that is what we all thought and hated him for it. He was one of those college topper boys and had an air about him that made people feel awe or hatred about him. As for me, I found him weird. And when Apeksha lost a bet, I asked her to go ask AB out for some Pineapple Milk**. She did and he said a "No" that sounded more like "In your dreams woman". (Appppuu! I am gonna meet you soon!!!!Yay! :) Baby! And we'll dance to the Pungi song! Fun times await.  Unless I die in a plane crash first :| )

Okay back to AB, I ran to the classroom, the ever late me, and true enough, the lecture was cancelled. And that's all the interaction I ever had with AB back in engineering college. Apart from throwing paper planes at him in the class when we got really bored and mean.

We graduated and went our different ways. Then one day Orkut came with the chat feature. Everyone on your Orkut list was added to your chat list on Gtalk. And suddenly, AB and I were chatting.

Today, not only do we chat regularly(I know, sorry for being tardy lately) and I must feature in his very small "girl friends" list, but also, I have come to understand him for the person he is and AB, sorry for throwing paper plans at you back in college :( You've been a darling of a friend, and one who's been always so, so practical! He's my "give-practical-unbiased" advice guy.


The whole point of this exercise was to tell you that the WWW has been really awesome, in bringing people together. I know so many awesome people, people I have never met, but yet who feature daily in my life, thanks to the WWW.

When I told my friends I was travelling alone all the way to Mysore to attend a friend's wedding, a friend I had known only on the Internet, every one of my friends thought I was crazy. But anyone who's been on the blogger and twitter has such friends and knows it's anything but crazy.


**We had the Aarey milk factory close to college which used to be one of our usual hangouts and the pineapple milk....simply yum!

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But as always, we have taken a good thing and turned it into a bad thing. In spite of having 1000 friends on FB, a thousand followers on Twitter, we are lonely and bored.


Boredom and loneliness is a problem today cause we choose to hide. And the WWW has given us that too. We choose to be lazy. We have lowered our standards and we are happy with it, cause not hiding and actually going and talking to people in person takes efforts, it means you can't be something you're not, you stand a chance of exposing your true self and you have to be vulnerable. It means we can go on pretending to be super humans in the online world and the real world doesn't matter anymore, cause look how many friends I have on FB! You can tweet about having a good time on twitter and post pictures you clicked last night with Katrina Kaif, but how many know that you're lonely? The WWW has given us that, a chance to be what we're not.


But why should we want to be something that we're not? Why are we so afraid? What do we have to hide? We have our BB busy status and we have the notorious invisible status on Gtalk. We have learnt to hide behind our FB walls and code life in our sly tweets. In a country of 1.2 billion people if you're lonely and bored, then the problem should be in you, no?


All you have to do is look up from your screen and at the people around you. So many interesting people, so many wonderful conversations await you. So many wonderful memories wilt and die, tired of waiting. I have a friend who's always busy on his BB, while I sit playing with my soup. I wonder if he'll miss these times when I waited for him and he was busy talking to people on his BB. And I see that happening everywhere. People enter clubs and restaurant in packs and then spread out in corners busy on their BB's. What's the POINT people? Retards.


When there's a person in flesh sitting from across you and you choose to talk to a machine instead, what times sweet lord! This is how these machines will take over us and this will be written as the beginning of the end of the human race. No, wait, I am not being dramatic here. You'll see! If you survive the talking-robot attack, that is.


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I am so exhausted that even the thought that today is the first day of my vacation doesn't excite me. Well, I still have to finish loads of work and pack!

But sigh, first travel of the year. God! I want more of these!!! I want more friends! I want to travel MORE! Argghh.

And God, if I don't get it in this life, I'll die and crib so much to you in heaven that you'll be forced to send me back to earth with the most awesome bunch of friends and loads and loads of awesome travel! Choose!

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And I am tired, I give up. Once I meet her, I am going to prostrate in front of her and tell her it's all in her hands now. She has to decide whether to revive or kill it. I am, tired.

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I want you to come and fold me into you arms and just let me be. Hold me tight and make me forget everything else. I am waiting, waiting, waiting :| Dude!

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I dreamt about you yesterday. You had written to me and you were telling me you were having some problems but now things are getting back on the track and you seemed happy writing to me, like you were not mad at me anymore. How are you sweetheart? Are you really so mad at me that you won't even talk to me?

You seemed happy in the dream. I hope you're so in real life too. I miss you, my Tarot lady.

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Look up from that screen and you'll notice the bare hill in front of your window, the blanket of purple flowers has disappeared and the wild grass has now turned brown, that summer has arrived and that it's time to go out and make new friends.


And while we're at it, I want to dance to this song with my new friends.

And I want to lie on grass under the midnight sky and listen to this song.

Banana Pancakes...

I am listening to this song in a loop (btw, I have fallen in love with his music):

And then I have a sudden craving for this song: 

I can be like that.

P.S: How utterly delicious does Aamir Khan look in this video?

Like 70% Cocoa...

I love you

like dipping bread into salt and eating

Like waking up at night with high fever

and drinking water, with the tap in my mouth

Like unwrapping the heavy box from the postman

with no clue what it is

fluttering, happy, doubtful

I love you

like flying over the sea in a plane for the first time

Like something moves inside me

when it gets dark softly in Istanbul

I love you

Like thanking God that we live.

-Nazim Hikmet

Unbolted...

It's a good day when you find your old self again...even if it is for a few hours :)

Nightcall...

The night. Deep, smooth, eloquent.

The Tucked Away Home...

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”

― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

Your Mother...

I loved this story: Your Mother

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Your mother hated being photographed. She had romantic notions of how perfect her body looked at certain angles and to have them crushed by the awkward reality of a still life was simply unbearable. So I learned to capture moments using words and silences.

On this day, she sat perched on the first floor balcony’s platformed railing. Our room overlooked the magnificent Bay of Bengal – swollen & angry. We’d mistimed our vacation and landed up at Chinnakalpet in the middle of the Tamil Nadu monsoon. Swimming in the choppy sea was out of the question & even when it wasn’t raining, the weather was spectacularly wild. Earlier in the afternoon I’d run my hands through her hair and lightly kissed her neck as we looked at the stunning view afforded us by the balcony. When I’d asked her if she wanted to walk along the beach with me, she’d pushed me out of the room – “We don’t have to do everything together, do we?” And she was right. I took off with my camera.

With every step, my feet sank deeper into the golden sand. The effort it took to take the next step reminded me of how we were both getting older and how my body was beginning to express its tiredness. We had tried, your mother & I, to have children over the past two years but two miscarriages later she decided we needed to stop. “I have run out of tears, Arun,” she said. Instead, we decided to get into our tiny car and head off anywhere the wind would take us (her words, not mine).

The wind had led me here and if I wasn’t careful, it would sweep me further into the Bay. “Hold on to your hat, man!” cried a man coming at me from the opposite side. Considering he was the one wearing the hat and not me, I found him amusing.
“Nice weather we’re having, aren’t we?” I joked.
“Absolute perfection. I hope you’re bracing yourself for Cyclone Leela!”
“What? No! I mean, I haven’t even heard about it. My wife & I here on vacation.”
“Vacation?!! That’s rich, dear chap! I’d turn my ship right round and head back for shore. Nigel Forman, by the way.”
“Arun Desai.”
“Pleasure to bump into you, Arun. You will not be soon forgotten. Good bye & good tidings!”

And off he went, striding strongly, pushing back against the strong winds. I stood and watched the strange old man as he climbed the slippery rocks leading into the ocean. When he reached the farthest rock he opened his arms out wide, embracing the elements: the violent spray of the sea, the full force of the wind & the unending sky before him. You might say he had a few screws loose but in that moment I envied him his freedom.

I walked further, clicking photographs along the way. Perfect little seashells, fishing boats making their way back to the beach and the odd little picture that our resort’s quaint cottages made on that stormy evening. I began to miss your mother and so I turned back.

I took the cobbled stone path to our room. Along the way, I came upon the family that was staying across the hall from us. They were out on the lawn taking advantage of the few rainless hours. Two little girls played in the dirt as their parents relaxed over a cup of coffee. The younger of the two was an independent spirit. Barely 3 or 4, she wandered off repeatedly on her own, digging holes in the ground en route. Her mother would call out for her at regular intervals, but she wouldn’t listen. She would carry on on her quest; now a flower to be dissected, now a butterfly to be chased. And then there was the matter of jumping into that puddle. Eventually, the mother caught up with her little imp and hoisted her over the shoulder. Both mother & daughter, laughing, disappeared into the bushes and then out of sight.

I don’t know what made me do it, but I looked up at that very instant and caught your mother looking right at me. There she was, seated cross-legged on our balcony’s platformed railing. She had wrapped a dupatta around herself, one end of which was flying unrestrained in the wind like her uncombed hair. She had never looked more beautiful. I instinctively lifted my camera to capture her breathtaking image. But in the very next instant, I changed my mind and there I was, running up the stairs as quickly as I could. The door was open, I rushed right through it and scooped her up in my embrace. We held each other so tight that not even the cyclonic winds churning up outside could have torn us apart.
The next morning, we admitted defeat in the face of Cylcone Leela, packed our backs and returned home. Not long after that your mother announced that she was pregnant with you.

From, Aquatic Static. Do visit the blog, one of my favourites.

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Stories like these make it so hard to come back to the real life, no? Sigh.

Older...

Okay, I know I have cribbed a zillion times about age here, but someone just addressed me as "bhabhi" today (in a respectful manner)!

I am...

Books...

“We are the people of the book. We love our books. We fill our houses with books. We treasure books we inherit from our parents, and we cherish the idea of passing those books on to our children. Indeed, how many of us started reading with a beloved book that belonged to one of our parents? We force worthy books on our friends, and we insist that they read them. We even feel a weird kinship for the people we see on buses or airplanes reading our books, the books that we claim. If anyone tries to take away our books—some oppressive government, some censor gone off the rails—we would defend them with everything that we have. We know our tribespeople when we visit their homes because every wall is lined with books. There are teetering piles of books beside the bed and on the floor; there are masses of swollen paperbacks in the bathroom. Our books are us. They are our outboard memory banks and they contain the moral, intellectual, and imaginative influences that make us the people we are today.” -Cory Doctorow

Recall...

For me, the movie does not end at "The End". I am the girl who'll wait till the last name in the closing credits is rolled off from the black screen.

Too Much Sugar...

Yes, hearts will be broken, trust will be betrayed, people will cheat and you'll be left disillusioned. But don't give up. Hearts will mend, you'll meet someone who'll make you want to give them your entire world, you'll go ahead and make friendships that'll last a lifetime and you'll find in yourself inexhaustible power to forgive. So no, we should not be in the business of bursting bubbles. Not now, not anytime soon.

People deserve to have their faith rewarded.

And if you stop being grumpy, you'll realise, it always is.

Someone's Preferred Ending...

The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:

I’d like to find you in the shower

And chase the soap for half an hour.

I’d like to have you in my power and see you eyes dilate.

I’d like to have your back to scour

And other parts to lubricate.

Sometimes I feel it is my fate

To chase you screaming up a tower or make you cower

By asking you to differentiate Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.

I’d like to successfully guess your weight and win you at a fte.

I’d like to offer you a flower.

I like the hair upon your shoulders,

Falling like water over boulders.

I like the shoulders, too: they are essential.

Your collar-bones have great potential

(I’d like all your particulars in folders marked Confidential).

I like your cheeks, I like your nose,

I like the way your lips disclose

The neat arrangement of your teeth

(Half above and half beneath) in rows.

I like your eyes, I like their fringes.

The way they focus on me gives me twinges.

Your upper arms drive me berserk.

I like the way your elbows work, on hinges.

I like your wrists, I like your glands,

I like the fingers on your hands.

I’d like to teach them how to count,

And certain things we might exchange,

Something familiar for something strange.

I’d like to give you just the right amount and get some change.

I like it when you tilt your cheek up.

I like the way you nod and hold a teacup. I like your legs when you unwind

them.

Even in trousers I don’t mind them.

I like each softly-moulded kneecap.

I like the little crease behind them.

I’d always know, without a recap, where to find them.

I like the sculpture of your ears.

I like the way your profile disappears

Whenever you decide to turn and face me.

I’d like to cross two hemispheres and have you chase me.

I’d like to smuggle you across frontiers

Or sail with you at night into Tangiers.

I’d like you to embrace me.

I’d like to see you ironing your skirt and cancelling other dates.

I’d like to button up your shirt.

I like the way your chest inflates.

I’d like to soothe you when you’re hurt

Or frightened senseless by invertebrates.

I’d like you even if you were malign

And had a yen for sudden homicide.

I’d let you put insecticide into my wine.

I’d even like you if you were the Bride of Frankenstein

Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian’s Jekyll and Hyde.

I’d even like you as my Julian of Norwich or Cathleen ni Houlihan

How melodramatic

If you were something muttering in attics

Like Mrs Rochester or a student of boolean mathematics.

You are the end of self-abuse.

You are the eternal feminine.

I’d like to find a good excuse

To call on you and find you in.

I’d like to put my hand beneath your chin. And see you grin.

I’d like to taste your Charlotte Russe,

I’d like to feel my lips upon your skin,

I’d like to make you reproduce.

I’d like you in my confidence.

I’d like to be your second look.

I’d like to let you try the French Defence and mate you with my rook.

I’d like to be your preference and hence

I’d like to be around when you unhook.

I’d like to be your only audience,

The final name in your appointment book, your future tense.

-John Fuller

Short Tales...

Dearest All,

I am fine, and before you panic too much, no, I am not going to flood this space with sentimental/sad love poems. The one by Sammuel Beckett was posted just because I liked what it said and how it was said, not because I am sad. God promise. In fact I am happy. But thank you for checking up on me.


And if you really want to make me feel better, go binge on some fatty stuff so that I am not the only one feeling fat :)

Marge, This Is Magic!

Just what I needed to hear today!

Oh! The Places You'll Go!

All The Wonderful Places You'll Go! :)
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And what a brilliant video! :)

Oh! The Places You'll Go!

Where's My Gaurdian Angel?

You want a job, a vacation, heath insurance, validation, a back rub, a scalp massage at the place where you get your haircut, people who are jealous of you, an ex who won’t stop texting you when they’re drunk, Twitter followers, happiness maybe sorta, someone to buy you lunch at a fancy restaurant, a mentor who can tell you what the hell to do with your life, a reliable internet connection, a reliable human connection, a gift card to the grocery store, dinner parties with friends where everyone will pretend to have their crap together for just one night, a nice flirty text message to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life, for everyone to like you even if you don’t like anyone, and one of those nights that doesn’t end till 9 AM and reminds you what it feels like to be young and alive. Oh, and $$$. That’s all. Think you can get that for me?

From ThoughtCatalog: What 20-somethings want.


And this is what the ones approaching 30 want:

You want a career that makes you feel like you're doing something good with your life, not just some job that pays your bills, something really meaningful. You want a great mentor who'll guide you how to make more money while having that mythical work-life balance. You want to come home to loved ones. You want a happy family, lots of cousins, aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces. You want a happy marriage. You want to stay close to your parents and be closer to your in-laws. You want a partner who accepts and understands you and loves you. You want friends to stay closer to you, or atleast one plane-hop away. You want vacations. And you want travel. You want time to read important books and cook your favourite meals and you want time to do nothing. You want to learn something new every month if not every week. You want to be able to save handsomely for your retirement. You want a healthy body, a clear mind, soft skin and a head full of glossy hair. You want drunken nights out with friends and you want get-togethers where conversations go on till 9AM. You want reliable human connection and someone who'll make you laugh. You want a pet. You want to have your act together and not need any validation from outside. You want lots of energy to do all those things, to keep everyone around you happy and work towards your own happiness. You want to feel that the past was good, but the future is going to be better.

That’s all. Think you can get that for me?

Chimera...

It's easy to fall back into the usual patterns, it's easy to forget everything and do what you don't have to remember, but you know, somehow, it doesn't feel right anymore. And as you still try to justify it to yourself, you realise, you didn't reach here to be a 16 year old again. You owe it to yourself, and you owe it more to those 27 years.

And as you walk away with that feeling, you realise, this is what it feels, at last.

Extremely Loud...

What do women really want? I'll be damned if I know! Arghh!

Date A Guy...

Advice from a friend:
*****

Date A Guy......who is one hundred per cent a man.
Razor sharp, funny, adventurous.

Needn’t be an MBA but an encyclopaedia on two feet. Then let him be a college dropout, even.
Date a guy who likes comics, glass bottles, tool kits and old furniture.
Date a guy who loves books, music and outdoors. In any order.

Date a guy who’d be the first to wake up to a trek, a match or your 5 am flight with the same attention.

Date a guy who has male friends worth a fight for and doting girl friends who have loved him at some point in time.

Date a guy who is not afraid to hitchhike or eat by the roadside. One who is physically fit and restless, mentally.
Date a guy with warm big hands that can cup your whole face. Who holds a degree beyond eggs in the kitchen and can cook up stories, on short notice, well, better than eggs.

Date a guy who will write, at least to you, without hesitation or an occasion.

Date a guy who will use humour, even in a fight. Who loves his parents and some bike. And who would then convince you to stand in the queue with him to book the classic edition of that bike. Just so you're there to see the grin on his face when he’s signed the cheque.

Date a guy who always has a plan. Someone who is forever game for a bet and a trip out of town. Someone who’d either break loose on the floor or continue hating it secretly, because you love to dance.

Date a guy who will fool you into believing that he has an interesting profession. Secret Agent, Vampire Slayer, Movie Maker, Star Gazer, even better.

Date a guy who is hard working, you might mistake him for being a workaholic but he has dreams beyond one lifetime. Date a guy who is ambitious, fierce, but not obvious.

Date a guy who’d treat a stranger well, even if your patience fails to.
Someone with steely convictions and self-imposed discipline on why bills must be paid before time.

Date a guy who can’t sing, but sounds like the best thing on phone after you’ve switched off the mid night radio.

Date a guy who has a heart and often thinks with it. Date a guy who’s not afraid to splurge even if it’s a strange antique mask that no one else bought at the flea market or a dusty old record at a garage sale. It may seem like a tad waste but he’d like you to like them and tell you how he wanted it, always.

Date a guy who is cute enough to lie about hating super models because they’re anorexic. And thinks you need to eat more even if you’re 10 pounds overweight and can’t fit into that skirt you wore on your first date. Date a guy who knows how to spoil you and when to scold you. One who is good at Math, loves History and can bug you all day with conspiracy theories.

Date a guy who will never have to fight with you for the remote because it’s easier for him to trick you into watching a documentary on something you couldn’t pronounce earlier. And you will.

Date a guy who is caring. One who never lets your friends’ glasses be empty or thinks they live too far to be dropped home.

Date a guy who loves dogs and never smells like one. One who has a bath in Aqua Di Gio. Most days when he can afford it or has the time. That’s his way of staying with you, long after he’s gone.

Date a guy who has MPD, preferably. Why should you wish for the same day, every day?

Date a guy who knows his medium rare from well done. And can tell Rock salt from Black salt. Date someone who knows his single malt and even though he doesn’t like wine, will at least fake it in good taste. Be sure, he’d tell you later anyway.

Date a guy who is flirtatious. Till late 50s. Who knows when to hand a towel and knows that sex can actually, cure headaches. Date a guy with a touch that wraps you like lamb wool in wet Augusts and tastes like a loaf of freshly baked whole wheat bread. Date a guy who always complains that you never kiss enough and one who loves PDA. Even if it wasn’t meant to freak out the 4 year old and her mother, at the airport lounge the other day.

Date a guy who is honest about his feelings. Let him make fun of your relatives, soon enough you’ll find yourself laughing, because that’s exactly he was at.

Date a guy who grows every year but refuses to age.

Date a guy who knows how to invest money and pick a nice movie for an afternoon of nothing. Date a guy who likes clothes and surprises. Someone who keeps words like effort and imperfections outside his closet.

Date a guy who is 100% himself, before he’s into you.

Date a guy who knows how to make a random game out of tissues in a café or a lasting memory out of some dull terrace light.

Date a guy who is worth picking up after a party, every single night.