A Blossom...

There are few words that will stir, inspire and make you happy. This is full of such words. If you read just one thing today, let it be this.

And so I want to start by giving one piece of advice to the men: when you’ve already won her heart, you don’t need to win every argument.

What you should prepare for is mess. Life’s a mess. You are not entitled to expect anything from it. Life is not fair. Everything does not balance out in the end. Life happens, and you have no control over it. Good and bad things happen to you day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. Your degree is a poor armour against fate.

Don’t expect anything. Erase all life expectancies. Just live. Your life is over as of today. At this point in time, you have grown as tall as you will ever be, you are physically the fittest you will ever be in your entire life and you are probably looking the best that you will ever look. This is as good as it gets. It is all downhill from here. Or up. No one knows. 

Do not waste the vast majority of your life doing something you hate so that you can spend the small remainder sliver of your life in modest comfort. You may never reach that end anyway. 

 The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence. 

If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone. Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable. 

Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.

Don’t work. Avoid telling the truth. Be hated. Love someone. 

A Cold Winter Morning...

I don't think there can be anything more beautiful than a winter morning. Specially when it has rained the night before.

Sometimes I wonder what I am doing in this concrete jungle. Surrounded by these tall buildings that compete with the not-so-tall mountains. Surrounded by clothes that flutter on the clothes lines along with the trees that sway and leaves that delicately shiver. The distant motorcycle horn that drowns the chirping of birds. The early morning breakfast bustle that breaks the morning reverie.

I should be somewhere else. Not here.

Soft Pink Kisses...

Most women in arranged marriages don't love their husbands when they get married; and later, they don't have a choice.


*****

You know what is the first thing I am going to do when I go to Bombay? Make friends with this lady here and do what she does. SHOP. Swasta and Masta indeed! 

Oh, the joy of finding something good! And the greater joy of finding it cheap! Nothing can beat that! Not even a good foot massage!

*****

I just arranged the Shelf above my study table today and how come I never realised it? I love my books-cum-other-things shelf. It's awesome. I am awesome. 

I have all these awesome books neatly arranged by size and thickness and colour. And I have my copy of Bhagvad Geeta (I like having it there nestled amongst the likes of Cervantes and Oscar Wilde). And then I have my hand-painted gods** and then these little things(curios/souvenirs) gifted by friends. Like this candle which has a metal elephant or the little metal tower of Paris Apeksha brought from Paris. Or then the earthenware with Warli painting made by Garima. Or then those little colourful aboriginal tequila glasses by Praveen. Then there's the Orange blossom tea tin gifted by Praveen again. I love that tea. Like my favouritest ever. What can be better than Orange flavoured tea? My two favourite things together! Then the Capricorn cup with a little fairy on it by Munira. I do have awesome friends :) Then my sister's soft toys she left back. Then my bachpan ka mickeymouse walla pen stand. My paint brushes and pens and pencils in my favourite blue coffee mug. My favourite Dior jewellery box. And other little boxes. I love boxes. Like little treasure boxes. How exciting they are! Then Vitamins bottle, sea cod pills. Almonds and walnuts ka jar. Pink nail paint bottle. My diaries. My cds and my perfumes box gifted by Jiju. And a photoframe with my kiddie pic. 

I like the idea of shelf. You know, if want to really understand someone, go see how they live. I think a person's private space says so much about him or her. I think it's fascinating how much you can glean about the person from just his shelf. 

**I had made this Ganesh idol from clay in 7th grade. And I guess I must be watching too many Bollywod movies back then cause I remember telling myself that if that Ganesh idol ever breaks, I'll die. Ha! Well, now you know how to kill me. 

*****

I really do hate the fact that most of my guy friends can cook and cook well. Like really! They compete with me! :( You know, I can not sing. Or dance. Or be funny. I can't even be all intelligent or sexy. Like really. Can you leave one thing that I can do well? Please men? 

I remember as kids while sister could get away with being beautiful, I had nothing to show off in front of the guests (Yes, insecurity breeds since childhood. I am still looking for that yellow dress just in case). So while parents would place my sister in front of the guests and they, guests, would gush over how cute and pretty she was, my parents would say, "A, go get that plate of biscuits from the kitchen."

Or then bad still, "A stood 3rd in her class." And no one would bother. 

And you can not, just can not imagine my trauma, and what a trauma it is at 10 years of age, when the guests break your happy little I-am-worthy-of-some-praise bubble, when they beg your parents to take you away before you start entertaining them by telling them funny (atleast in my mind they were!) jokes. My jokes! No one wanted to hear my jokes :( And such nice jokes they were too!

And now these men! Who can make better mustard chicken than I can! *sniff sniff*

I think my sister's hex is finally working. As a teenager when I used to laugh at my sister's attempts at cooking, she used to give me that look that only older, arrogant sisters are capable of and say, "A, I hope you get married into a house where no one loves food! And so you can cook and cook and no one will appreciate you!" 

Yes. She did say that. Can't believe it right? Me neither :( What can I say? I do have an evil sister. And when I used to go crying about it to mom, she used to just ignore me :( Or if I was lucky, shoo me with a, "go cut an onion or something". 

Sigh. Maybe I am adopted after all. I should go cry now.

Overheard Love...

If I don't take care, you'll be lost in these pages without numbers. Never to be found again. Forever lost.


*****
One needs to remember that relationships are as much about giving space as they are about coming closer.


*****
I'll remember my late mid-twenties as the time when emotions were uncontrollable, almost maniacal. Like wild hungry monkeys left unsupervised in a banana plantation. Yep. Like wild monkeys.


*****
"Parrots, parrots, parrots! Everywhere I see parrots! Why are there so many parrots in your house?", She almost yelled.


"I like the attention", he mumbled. 

The Jingle...

Remember? :)

Love Is An Empty Inbox...

Love not our love
love isn't supposed to be this way
love is a poison ring
and love has poured you drinks
now love waits for you to sleep
don't lend it to a friend
'cause you may never see that friend again
don't bother with a cover 'cause love can
pick out the fakes
but that's not our love
not our love
this crime of love
love isn't supposed to be this way
love will sting and love will burn
love will steal all you've learned
yes it will but not our love
sometimes in your back
and sometimes in your heart
it's a double edged sword
don't you bother with a cover
'cause in a crowd love can pick out the fakes
but that's not our love
not our love
(and the girls sing along) do you hear this cry for
love
do you see this crime of love
love waits for you to sleep
don't lend it to a friend
you can easily pick out the fakes
don't you see this crime of love
this crime of love holds you here
sting burn steal learn
don't turn your back on my heart
you can easily pick out the fakes

Cleavage...

Okay, I honestly think if anything after sliced bread should get the most innovative invention prize, it has got to be this! But before you proceed, if you're a guy, watching below video might ruin cleavage for you forever, like it did for a friend. But I still highly recommend it :)

I never thought that was possible! Like really, dude! I used to actually think all those men dressing up as females stuff oranges in their bras. This is, for lack of words, highly fascinating!