Artless Impulses

The unpacking conundrum

2015-07-21T20:16:00.000+05:30

It’s been 2 years and 20 days since we've moved to the big bad city. The big has gotten slightly smaller and the bad has gotten slightly better though. However, my one big concern remains. I still haven’t unpacked all my boxes. Why haven’t I unpacked my boxes? Well, apart from the fact that I am essentially the laziest person alive on earth when it comes to household chores, there is also that weird fear of packaged boxes. A somewhat odd feeling tells me that one does not simply open boxes after 6 months (of unopening) has passed. You need adult supervision (or super-hero-vision) at this point of time when you decide to finally unbox. What if you open up to find a gazillion mini spiders mutated (with superpowers of course), crawling through every inch of that box? And just by opening that box you have now subjected the world to the horror that is mutated stingraypowered mini spiders! You might as well dig yourself a giant hole at this point in time, crawl into it and die. Speaking of giant holes, your un-opened box could have also morphed into a compressed environment of multiple levels of bad energy and condensed claustrophobia making it the perfect portal of doom. A giant mega-hole which (on unboxing) will suck everything in its path like a black hole-ish- death-star and won’t stop until it has swallowed the earth. The other possibility is that everything inside that box is now alive. Something was born in it, something evolved in it, something evolved into a scarier something in it, and now 'the force is stronger than ever'. And it is waiting silently, in that dark swamped (probably moist) box, and when the time comes… well you know where this is going.

So yeah, I pretty much have a couple of very logical reasons for why I haven’t unpacked yet. A standard expiry date of box opening has to be taken into consideration here, and at the same time I keep telling myself, that if I haven’t required any of those things in those boxes that I packed – I pretty much don’t need them ever. Let’s face it, if you don’t feel the need to take something out of a box for two years, you’ll probably never fucking need it ever. So now the question comes. What do I do with these boxes of doom? Burn. Beat. Repeat? Strategically place them across different crowded places in the city and wait for apocalypse or… just call my mom?! At this point I Googled “magic 8 ball, should I call mom?” and the answer was – “Outlook not so good”. Which is pretty bang on! In retrospect, my mom would beat the shit outta me if she found out I was sitting pretty on 6 unopened boxes for the last 2 years. So that’s a clear No. Also, I am pretty sure one of those boxes has some horrid wedding gifts that I pretty much never want to see in my life. Deviating slightly from topic, which I obviously never do, quick head count of how many different types of hideous flower vases you can get on your wedding day? Apparently, quite-a-fucking-lot!

Anyway, so coming back to the unpacking conundrum at hand. The amount of time I have spent in writing this inane post and venting my frustration about unopened boxes lying in my store room could have been better utilized in either opening them or destroying them, neither of which I have done. Thank you very much. But, at least I realize that I may have a problem. And like most pretentious wise people sayings go- admitting you have a problem solves 50% of the problem. So now, I am doing exactly what most people who are about to have a panic attack do. Search Online. This weekend, I have vouched to at least try and get rid of some of these boxes and to do that I need some weapons of course. By weapons I mean Dettol, thick brooms, dusters and a hazmat suit obviously.

And I leave you with my favourite quote of the day: “My second favourite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint”.

Things I want #Series

2015-05-25T14:10:00.000+05:30

#1: Self checkout registers in shops: so that no one knows what I'm buying.

Read: Three Large bags of Shrimp Crackers. Three packs of Cheesy balls. Three Packs of Cheetos. I'm done with grocery shopping.

A man is but a sum total of his memories.

2014-11-21T17:57:00.000+05:30

A childlike grin on his face. I imagined it quite well ... even though I couldn't see it. But, I know that look! That look of excitement and nostalgia. That look of suddenly remembering where you kept something… something you lost long back.

I asked him again, do you remember how the house looked like? A long pause, and then he said, “Why wouldn't I remember? Of course I was only a boy, but things like these… you don’t really forget. There was a huge balcony. Actually two of them, a small kitchen where thakuma (grandmother) used to cook the most amazing begun pora; the smell mingling in the air… mesmerizing all those who passed by that busy lane. She was a woman like no other, the determination, the patience and oh the cooking! Do you know she used to make idols for puja on her own, what amazing craftsmanship. She collected my poems in secret, and published my first book .. I remember holding the book in my hand and thinking, how did she pull this off?!”

A couple of minutes later, and through all the childlike rambling, I finally managed to cut through the chatter again to ask, how is Kashi, why exactly did you do there? The thought that my extremely quirky and impatient father in his youth (arguably even more impatient) would laze around in a city like Varanasi, was rather odd to me.

He chuckled and said, "Bridge. I used to play Bridge”. Before I could ask him what bridge was he continued, “Our house was very close to Dashashwamedh ghat, one of the busiest ones in Kashi. On the second floor, right opposite Nishat Cinemas, do you think it’s still there? Look up Nishat Cinemas on Google Maps will you? Oh and there was Gopal Ghosh, he used to run an itar shop. He used to love me so much, I wonder if he is still there.”

Hold up right there! I jumped and said, how the hell do you even remember his name? He smiled and said, “He used to give me small bottled perfumes for my girlfriend. Free of charge of course!” But of course, I said (and went back to imagining the childlike grin on his face again.)

These late night telephonic conversations with my father leave me puzzled, sometimes endeared, and sometimes question my perceptions about him. The rest of the midnight-conversation, with my 12 year old father, revealed his near perfect memory of every nook and corner of Kashi... how the ghats looked, how the sadhus sat around the edges, grandma’s cooking, his frequent trips to Ramnagar, on the west bank of the river, to fetch perfectly round and I quote “slightly greenish eggplants” which apparently led to some of the most unbelievable eggplant dishes, that my mother can’t seem to compete with (even to this day)!

And then I asked him, by the way what did you have for lunch today, and he paused and said, ‘mmm..I don’t remember, why?’

Later that night I wrote this on a sticky pad-

A man is but a sum total of his memories,
The kites he flew and the cards he played.
The paths he crossed, & the footsteps in the alleys.
A man is but a sum total of his memories
The lives he touched, the strangers he crossed
The ones he shared, and the even the un-shared stories
A man is but a sum total of his memories.
The lovers that never happened
The familiar gazes, and even the unsolved mysteries.
A man is but a sum total of his memories.

10 Things To Teach Your Grandchildren

2014-07-07T15:51:00.002+05:30

The smell of sweet candy. Freshly made sweet-meat. Fairytales. Woolen caps and mittens. Partition Stories. Mangoes. Warm blankets and hot chocolate. Home-made cough medicines. Vintage jewelry boxes.Those are some of the things that remind me of my grandparents. I remember my grandmother making sweet and spicy pickles during winters, bottled up in jars and soaking in the sun, on the roof ... just waiting in cute little bottles to be ravaged by sneaky hungry children. Aah! those were the days.

And if you are anything like me, you are thinking.. I have no clue how to make those pickles anymore. Of course, 'Cos you were too busy stealing them and less busy learning how to make them. So, go figure now.

The summary of course:

Not growing medicinal plants in your backyard. Check
No clue how to knit. Check.
No clue who your cousin's husband's aunt's sister is married to. Check
Pickles are meant to be stolen, not made. Check
Home-remedies = Google. Check
Never Fermenting things at home. (Eww). Check

Congratulations! you are now spiraling your way to become a terrible grandparent.

< -insert -90s-themed-laughter-track- >

Granted that when we grow old, we wont be able to do any of the old people stuff like knitting a cap for our grandchild or make coconut laddus, or cook amazing food of our ancestors; and definitely won't know shit about housekeeping and growing stuff in our backyards (no Marijuana doesn't count) or making household cleaners out of scratch. But being the incredibly positive, life-affirming person that I am: I am going to remind myself that there are still tons of amazing things to teach our grand-kids when we are older (not wiser).

1. We may not know how to grow medicinal plants and make potions but.... but we can definitely teach 'em how to open beer bottles without openers. #daadimaakenuskhe

Gather around children, and... grab a spoon.

2. Table manners are over-rated! Proper hash-tagging and tagging manners will make or break their characters. The single most important threshold, the moment that defines whether they will be labeled as cool or wannabes, or bitches, or spammers or trolls. It's a matter of life and death and only you can teach 'em that!

I'm so tired of being stereotyped by bloggers

3. Hangover cure. Yes! the one that you have perfected over your late twenties. 'Cos they will remember us with a smile, and minimal headache!

A pinch of lime and a drop of phoenix's tear

4. Flicking an amazing < insert- excuse- here > Selfie. A truly great way to bond with those ducky-lipped grand-daughters!

Genuinely-LMAO

5. And since their protection is paramount we will surely teach them how to set an incredibly difficult password.

The words poop and shit-head can only be cracked by 4th grade-hackers.

6. Instead of telling them goose-bumpey stories of partition and how we came to India after the war, we'll tell them how we left India and migrated away to #FirstWorldCountries for more money, which we then converted to INR and became millionaires and hence afforded the house and Jacuzzi in which they play now! #Respect

Because. Patriotism.

7.We might not have vintage jewelry boxes and antique-finish earrings to pass on to them, but we can give them this piece of our heritage. That might be worth a fortune by then :P

The Joes are out of the picture. And by 'out of the picture,' I mean, 'out of this earth.

8. You will also share infinite wisdom with them. You'll tell 'em why Charlie Sheen was in fact not 'winning'!!

Is he winning yet?

9. You will also tell them to travel the world and live out of their suitcase for as long as they can. And, meet new people, drive across different forests and oceans and mountains, and never shy away from trying anything new.

Stop freeloading. Go bar-tend in Hawaii

10. And finally....

It's taken for granted that invariably, without you even trying, they will catch on to one of your passions. Most grandchildren follow the passions and interests of their grand parents without even knowing where it came from. It's almost like a hidden bond; a watermark carefully planted inside them. You might be a rock and roll fan, without even having the slightest idea that your grandfather was a huge hippie back in the day. Or the fact that you turned out to be a great photographer, 'cos your grandfather wanted to be one. Or the finesse and passion you have for baking is something that's passed on to you from your grandmother or the fact that you enjoy reading poetry is because your grandma was part of a secret women's book club back in the 1930s.

It's one big giant connection just waiting to be explored. This is something that has transcended generations, and trends, and pop culture and weed and internet and teenage mutant ninja turtles and technology and basically anything you can think of. Nothing dilutes that, and no one can take that away from you. It's yours to keep and yours to leave behind.

The Dinosaur is a hoax made by atheist devils! Jesus lives

2014-06-16T15:35:00.000+05:30

Yeah, you read it right. No No, Don't you ridicule yet. You are not the only one that matters. The world doesn't revolve around your opinion. (Yet)

I've been learning this for a while. Trying to learn at least. So basically, I am progressively devoting myself to the cause of remaining calm at the face of stupidity. Which is why you see, statements like these don’t infuriate me anymore? Learning to control your facial muscles when confronted with idiocy is an art, really! And the sooner you master it, the better it is for you, and well, your social circle. So, if someone thinks that you will explode into tiny combustible pieces for being an atheist dumbfuck? Or if someone says that Satan created dinosaurs to distract us from finding the true significance of the origin of life? Or when someone is trolling your blog posts on mythology and how you are an ass and should be thrown out of the country for maligning the country’s glorious heritage! You should just, ~~demand trial by combat~~ Take a long deep breath. And move on.

But then, once in a while I need to cheat. Laugh and make fun! Basically go back to my roots, and be my bitchy best. I have my girl-friends and bffs to go back to whenever I need to ventilate and bitch. It's a good practice and it's starting to do wonders for my skin. Because, pent up emotions, itchiness of soul and general frustration with mankind cannot be good for your skin. But remember never to argue with stupid people, they WILL drag you down, and then they will beat you with experience.

On an unrelated note… If you need to cheer up on a gloomy Monday. And if life’s suckiness is sucking you down, just look at all the dumbness around you and you will feel better about yourself instantly. One of the easiest ways to do it is to ask the New God – “God show me how dumb people can be….” And God WILL show you.

**Voila**

If you were twice as smart, even then you'd still be stupid.

I'm actually impressed with this one, at least there is ample imagination

Well, I think I've heard smarter things from a schizophrenic with Tourette's.

Not so subliminal. Bollywood was on Crack.

2014-06-04T18:05:00.000+05:30

A couple of days back, I was sick at home, coughing away to glory and frankly in a lot of pain. That's when I decided to watch some old Hindi movies, to take the mind off of nuisances. You know, stuff like runny nose and back pain. What started off as an innocent time-out activity; ended in a cracked up bat-shit grisly realization.

Now if you are someone who grew up in the 90s, mid-afternoon Z- Cinema movies will remind you of family dramas and odd love stories. Some very interesting plot twists like when the Naukar becomes the real son, and the real son becomes the sorry-who-are-you-son! Oh, and of course the jobless (but B.com pass) hero, who is cursed and ridiculed by all as ‘awara, nakamma’ suddenly becomes the messiah of the entire community (the ones who once ridiculed and threw stones at him)... Ok, chuck the stones part.

Or, you know the one where the villager Bahu suddenly becomes ultra-cool and so-much-better-than-your-ordinary-Bahu when she starts speaking in English (because she too turns out to be B.A pass from Oxford university) in the final few ground-breaking scenes.

I learnt this in Oxford

So, you get the drift. We've all seen them as kids right? and at some point laughed out loud for the sheer reason that these movies exist. (don't get me wrong, I love watching b-grade Bollywood stuff, just for a good laugh). But the question I want to ask is - have you seen them lately? As a fully grown adult sitting in 2014 have you seen these movies?

Yes I know they are funny, tacky, unoriginal and juvenile at some stages & we all know that; but the real nightmare was the fact that none of these movies had any freaking idea as to how a boy is supposed to behave in order to meet and woo a girl. All the love stories or sub-plots of love stories are delusional, derogatory or just plain loony. Seriously, I saw three movies back to back (all 90s) and not a single one of them had a sane projection of how men and women meet and behave in real life.

For all I know, they worked as subliminal messaging and may have scarred us beyond repair. So, while some blamed the chow-mein and some blamed mini-skirts, I too need to put the blame on something & this seems sustainable. Way more sustainable than the rest of the theories.

So, coming back to the main plot… There I was, warm water with honey in one hand and remote on the other, I cursed, cringed and gasped at scene after scene/song after song of a popular 90s movie: While it continued to mess with my understanding of basic social etiquette and fuck with every meet-cute story I’ve ever seen or heard.

Sorry, am I invading your personal space? I didn't think so too.

Enter our protagonist who is single-handedly raging a righteous war against corruption in the community. He suddenly sees a beautiful girl in a crowded bus. Reason enough I guess. And there - his entire fucking plan of saving the world goes upside down. He breaks into a sudden song (to make it slightly more logical, it was a dream sequence), to win stranger/soul-mate’s heart.

Oh! And did I mention that he felt it was perfectly acceptable to drum (aka the tabla) on the heroine/dream-girl/unfamiliar person’s butt just to prove his love and affection even more ... he did in fact... in the end… win her heart. Un-fucking-believable.

He ran after her through the streets with a bagpipe (Devil knows why) claiming his love for this lady he has just seen some ten minutes back. Also, singing his heart out and literally molesting her with disgusting dance moves, that can only be described as groping, seemed an appropriate ice-breaker to him at the time.

Oh Wait! I was supposed to be saving the community from a drug-lord,

but first, lemme rub my cheek on this pretty mama’s waist.

The girl in question is visibly scared. Wait ... I’m saying, that she has been told to act scared in the first one minute of the three minute song. And then she has been told to start looking embarrassed, and out of this blushing embarrassment, a strong look of love should become evident. Yep, that’s what the director must have forced her to do. My mind will only accept this reason and this reason only. Otherwise, I have very basic 'being a human-person' type issues like – how can embarrassment be a precursor to love? And hence – not proved.

So, imagine this. The seed was planted in an average young boy’s head long back. A young boy, in the year 1996, comes back home from school and (let’s assume has no access to cartoon network) starts watching Z-cinema. Comes across this movie in particular, and what lesson did this young mind grasp? That, nothing says ‘I will love you with all my heart’ like following a girl around day and night. Slightly scaring her is also good. It’s just going to turn into a smile in the next few minutes. Just keep touching her, following her, whistling and singing to her incessantly until she gives in and falls madly, deeply, and helplessly in love with you. Bollywood would make it happen. Bagpipes and soap-bubbles. Just Magical.

How Romantic... bumping into you like this... #Manly

In the next movie the ‘awara’ hero thinks that the best way to win his dream girl’s heart is to be bold. Let’s just kiss her in front of a crowded street just to seal the deal. Leave her with no option but to fall in love. I mean now that she has publicly been kissed, what other option does she have? (You know, apart from our dashing jobless, middle- aged, supremely hairy hero).

Now if that wasn't true love, I don't know what is.

So, to summarize – the message they were driving home was that girls will fall for relentless weirdos whose sole aim in life is to inappropriately touch you and whistle at you when you pass by. Of course women must conform to these rules, because these guys have hearts of gold and will love you till death. But first, let them tease you a bit, the rest will fall into place like any other glorious love story.

Of course, NO doesn't really mean no... It means "I luurvve you"

Personally, I think the writers were on crack. In a country where men grew up to movies like this, no wonder they felt the need to grope every woman they desired. Or whistle at every female they felt could end up as their real life heroine. In any case, the ‘blame game’ is the favorite game of the nation. I mean we’ve heard enough theories about enough reasons as to why Indian men do what they do. So, add one more from my end to the list.

I also want to say that the cure lies with the MIB and their flashy thingies. Just wipe the memory of the 90s clean and we will have a country of respectful men, who are nice to women. I mean no one is born letchy & creepy. Right?

But then there is this character.

Made it big, by attempting to rape heroines on screen. FACE-PALM.

Travel Rant + Obsessive Planning = Incredible Future Holidays

2014-04-02T14:54:00.000+05:30

What happens when a relatively free day at work hits you on the face with vapid nothingness you ask? I go straight to my happy place - Obsessive holiday planning. This is a difficult task indeed given that I have less than 10 rupees left in my salary account at the end of the month. But nevertheless, the pennyless-ness doesn't ever dampen my spirits. Like Ever. I've known people to create wedding books, wishlists, and DIY stuff in their free time; but my number 1 guilty pleasure remains looking at vacations I can never afford. It just makes it this forbidden fruit meets sexy stranger with a ring on his finger meets solar powered jet packs meets 007's loaded vehicle. (you get the picture)

Over the years I have toned down though. Quite a bit. I've started narrowing down places I'd really want to go to and I know I can achieve in the next 5 years. That is, if I drink less on the weekends and not spend half my salary on eating out and repaying debts. So, this has come down a vision board - A five year vacation plan ( I am getting older and wiser as I write this) that will help me achieve the output of my lifelong obsessive holiday planning. So after looking at relatively practical inputs like money, modes of travel, distance, culture vs romance, adventure or spa etc etc I have narrowed the list down to 20 places for the next 5 years and the goal is to hit at least 10 on the list (50% achievement rate is way above my track record right now, so don't make faces). Needless to say, the obsessive planning has been restricted to only these 20 places and my travel folder is only getting fed with itineraries that stick to the plan. So, here's presenting the top 4 contenders for 2014-15.

1. Petra, Jordan and diamonds in the desert skies.

If you've seen Indiana Jones and the last crusade then you know what I'm taking about. This Nabataean caravan-city is situated between the Red Sea and the Dead Sea and is one of the most kick-ass historic sites of the Hellenistic period. Why you ask? Well, for starters its mysterious, surrounded with rippling gorges and narrow passages, semi carved into the rocks and just springs out of nowhere when you are least expecting it. And also because it's fucking gorgeous.

My planning for Jordan includes a starting point with Madaba and Amman and then indulging into a breathlessly romantic Hot Air Balloon Ride in Wadi Rum desert. Overnight stay in a traditional Bedouin camp in the desert under a starry sky. The trip would be incomplete without a visit to the dead sea. The Moevenpick Resort & Spa at the Dead Sea has rooms that call out to your soul and has the best views of the sea you can imagine. Sit at the balcony and gaze out to the vastness of the dead sea while sipping on some Arabic coffee. Bliss Bliss Bliss. This one is at the top of my list with the heaviest planning and saved itineraries anyone has ever seen or thought of. The best part: This trip can be managed with around $1200 for 5 nights and 6 days.

2. The Sri Lankan Odyssey

My fixation with Sri Lanka started only recently, but the more I researched and read... the more excruciatingly excited I got. This is a place where you can truly take the off-beaten path or you can see everything or just do nothing. Beach - Check, Mountains - Check, Valleys - Check, Jungle Safaris - Check. I've planned an extensive one for this trip since I want to head out and explore every bit of this hidden heaven right under our noses. My planning started with an hour long exploration of Google Maps and different road trips through the Sril Lanka which will allow me to see and do the most. At the end, I am left with 10 days and 6 destinations across cities mountains and beaches.

One of the highlights would be a two night stay at the amazingly lush and relaxing resort called the The Wallawwa in Negombo. Nestled amongst three acres of magnificent manicured gardens the place looks right out a story book. To add to that it's actually an old colonial manor house restored as a luxury resort. The other one that I've had my eye on for a very long time is called Hunas Falls, in Kandy "Offering Panoramic Views Of Valleys And Mountain Ranges In The Distance, The Stunning Landscapes That Surround The Hotel Are Bound To Fascinate Any Nature Trekker." This is going to be an expensive one, so I'm going to keep it as a finale to the vacation check-list.

3. The Great South Indian Romance

My parents had gone for a South Indian honeymoon. A two week grand affair across different nooks and corners of the South in the beautiful monsoons is a story they hold close to their hearts to this day. I had half a mind to do the same post my wedding, but given I got married in a ridiculously hot month - I couldn't let South India happen in May for sure. I am reserving this one for the monsoons or the winters.

Image courtesy CNTraveler

My travel planner currently hosts 7 places that I must visit and 3 resort where I must cuddle with my Batman. Starting at Chikmagalur and finishing with Dhanushkodi, literally the lands end I have road maps, resorts, house boats and off-beat spots all picked out. Here are the top three cuddle spots which I am more than dying to visit soonish. The Serai at Chikmagalur - deemed as one of the most romantic resorts in India and rightly so. The CN Traveler states its a 'no kids zone' and it's got quiet time and romance written all over it. To top it all, imagine a dinner out in the wilderness under the skies and glittering lamps hanging off a mystical banyan tree!

The next one is Bungalow on the Beach Tranquebar, Tamil Nadu. This one is a Neemrana property and the view of the virgin white beaches just outside your window can turn the biggest skeptics into gooey eyed cuddlezillas. And last but not the least the Taj Garden Retreat, Kumarakom (Vivanta) - a houseboat designed to cater to your every needs aka unlimited pampering and luxury as you glide through the backwaters of Kerala. Also, given that I am a sea food addict Kerala is a place I just couldn't keep off my list for too long.

A special thanks to Condé Nast Traveller India for satiating most of my holiday needs and dreams, it just seemed like a blessing when I was planning this trip out.

Image courtesy CNTraveler

4. Backpacking across the Western Ghats

Right from the time I've set foot in Mumbai, I've realized that this is a great opportunity to discover some of the most unspoiled un-touristy locations hidden around the Maharashtran coastline and along the rocky western ghats. I have to admit I am a sucker for rough terrains and unusual topography. I mean I love mountains and all, but I melt at the sight of unevenly placed table lands and sudden peaks and great barriers that look like some one has drawn a brown curtain all around the plains. The roads are quite brilliant in this part of the country, they are mostly one way highways and you get to see a different sight of the mountains and plateaus at every nook and turn. To top it all, the monsoons come as such a blessing in this arid part of the subcontinent that it becomes a sight to be felt and enjoyed with almost all your senses. The smell in the air, the rough green and reds of the barks, the mossy glow on the table lands and the waterfalls, just make up this post-cardish effect. The places are relatively less crowded and you don't have a lot of luxury establishments, which is kind of okay, since the stunning views make up for it. A couple of places on my backpack cheap trip list are -

Bhandardara - a quaint little hill town around dams and lakes and a topography to die for. You can drive for miles without crossing another soul on the road.
Malshej Ghat - a place which most exotic migratory flamingoes choose it as their monsoon abode. And to top that, you'll find 3rd century Buddhist caves in this hilly abode.
Lonar - A place where a giant meteor struck roughly 50 thousand years ago, thus forming the world's third largest crater lake. How Cool Is That?
Chikhaldara - this is the only coffee growing hill station in Maharashtra and has an epic mythological story associated with it. The area is mostly rustic and foresty making it easy to spot wild animals - deer, sloth bears, and if you are lucky some panthers too.

All these places have Maharashtra tourism bungalows which are super cheap, so planning impromptu trips are quite easy. There are very few luxury resorts around these places, but a few excessively priced properties have sprung up claiming the advantage of being literally the only ones around! As long as we can keep planning these impromptu trips across the state, I'd be happy... and moving to Mumbai would be truly worth its while. As for now, I am back from a short break and loving the rejuvenated new energy in me that's literally carrying me through the week.

*********************************************************************************

“Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.”

I wouldn't wanna miss this fairy tale! The Smart-Things Revolution is Coming!

2014-01-08T16:48:00.001+05:30

I’m hooked to the smart phone. Well who isn’t. This seemingly harmless commodity has effortlessly slipped into our lives in such a way that at some point of time you look back and think, how the hell did you survive without it?

Now… Do I NEED to know how long it will take me to get to work today morning? Well, Five years ago, I could do fine without it – But now it’s an intrinsic part of my morning routine. The scary dependence on smart phones can only increase with time as more and more ideas start pouring in … making us paralyzed without it. Just like we are paralyzed without our laptops, microwave ovens, Fridge, air conditioning (seriously, how they hell did I survive in the 90s without AC??!). Don’t get me wrong… this post is not about the scary dependence and how we should go back to simple living and what not. Hell no! I am tech-pro, In fact I’d wish I was born another 20 years later mebbe… to see more cool gadgets and smart-whatevers kick in. My wish list for smart-thingy’s are endless (sometimes weird), but I feel the need to share my enthusiasm with you and tell you about the dreams I dream. (No I don’t dream of world peace or rainbows with pots of gold or becoming the first woman paraglider to soar through the Himalayas. ‘Cos that will be random.)

Here’s my wishlist of smart-thingys that I hope (please God) that we get to use in the coming years (before I die: two please).

Smart Refrigerator – Think of a fridge which tells you what’s in it. My dream: I sit in the living room and ask – Yo, do you have butter? And my fridge says, No – you need to buy more. And then later, it memos what I need and texts my grocery list to my phone while I am at work. Oh! *The tears of Joy* Plus it will have a huge inventory of recipes fed to its smart machine brain which will read out recipes step by step as I cook. Needless to say it will be a ninja when it comes to popping out ice… super-fast and making even more ice even more super-fastly.

Smart-Bed Panel – This one’s my favorite. Imagine: the moment your head hits the pillow in a sleeping position (not in a leaning back, watching TV or reading position- mind you!) It slowly connects to your favorite sleepy time playlist and starts to play within 10 seconds. My smart bed panel or head board will contain the controls to the drapes, the lights/dimmers, Television and Air-conditioning. The Television will switch-off - on its own, the drapes will be shut and AC turned down to the optimum sleeping temperature at the touch of a button called ‘Sleep mode’. What more! It will automatically calculate your sleep cycle within the week and from the second week onwards will automate the alarm-time in the morning, switch off the AC, open the drapes and play the most effective wake up tune to kick- start the day perfectly. Aaah! Bliss. Needless to say, your ipod and your audio books are connected to it. Bam! Also, when you are hungover on a week day it will play ‘Eye of the tiger’ to get you out of bed and off to work.

The Smart Housekeeper AKA Irona – No I don’t mean a personal maid; and even if you do have a butler to fit this category – tell me what is cooler? A average joe butler or Irona? If you chose Butler you can go back to the farm you came from and stop reading this. But for me Irona is the ultimate dream. The pinnacle of my housekeeping heaven. To be honest, I am lousy at housekeeping and chores and shit. I do my laundry once in two weeks, that too when I am almost forced to go commando and run out of clean underwear. Plus, I hate dusting. HATE. HATE. HATE. Ok you got the drift. So Irona is where my salvation lies. I know having a robot maid is not realistic yet. Futuristic yes, but still too cartoonish I say. So, Irona is going to be a smart machine which can look like anything really – A cabinet, a LCD panel or VIKI (like in I Robot) or a plain piece of panel really. The beauty is in what it does really. This is a central intelligence system for all devices in the house and it automatically schedules and delivers chores and keeps the house slick. It vacuums – that is: sucks in all the pollution and dust in the air of the house every two days and pumps out air fresheners, it has an alarm when we are about to run out of milk, it starts up the washing machine when it is half full of clothes (vs when it’s totally full and so is the laundry bag), it keeps a tab on household expenses and knows I spent how much on what; it connects to my phone and sends me texts on what needs to be done with reminders – change bedsheet today, throw out the fungus growing curry sauce, call the plumber and, get your shit together Mum is coming tomorrow. Also, when I reach home from work it plays celebratory victory music fit for a queen’s entry into her castle and runs the water for a bubble bath: perfect mix of warm and cold. And that’s when I’d hit nirvana. Right there, at that spot.

I am an optimist. I know all this is on its way. Soon. Very soon. Till then, just keep me alive God. I wouldn’t wanna miss this fairy tale.

Pillow-Chocolates, Christmas & Cookies!

2013-12-23T17:41:00.002+05:30

I've always known that Santa wasn't real. I was a smart kid like that. But I could never resist watching my parents bring Christmas up a notch every year. Christmas wasn't ever about Jesus or Christianity for us: for obvious reasons. However Bengalis have a knack of meddling with almost every holiday that is major for anyone. If my dad had enough information about Hanukkah I'm sure he'd get a bunch of lights and candles and made a day out of it. For me Christmas meant plum cakes, fruit cakes, chocolates and gifts. It was more about how good we've been all year round. It was a bonus day (apart from birthdays) when we kids got cool stuff from a certain Santa person. I remember Mum sneaking chocolates under our pillows at night and Dad - up to his old antics to hide presents from us. This one time was spectacularly special and till date I don't know how he pulled it off. I had my eyes on a particular doll I'd seen at 'Wonderland' (Our closest toy shop) and I made it quite clear that I was lusting after it. On Christmas eve, we were sitting in the living room eating some snacks and watching tv when the doorbell suddenly rang. Dad looks up and mischievously says - go see who's at the door. The gift was kept at the doorstep (awesomely packed of course), and I don't think I need to spell out the contents inside the wrapper. I think that day, I kind of believed Dad was partnering with this mysterious Santa guy to ship us gifts. For the believers out there who bask in the goodness of Christmas spirit - this would have been a perfect story. Years have gone by, and I have been waking up to no chocolates under the pillow on Christmas day for a while now. I think holidays are definitely harder when you are staying away from home; especially when you have so many memories attached to each one of the occasions. This year I'm going to be my own Santa. I think. - So... rushing home to make Chocolate chip cookies today (cos I can't beat the cakes mum makes). Hiding chocolates under my own pillow might be too creepy at almost 30, but I'm still contemplating work-arounds.

Mahabharat: Desire & Destiny or Triumph & Pride.

2013-10-14T11:56:00.000+05:30

Within infinite myths lies the Eternal Truth?
Who sees it all?
Varuna has but a thousand eyes
Indra, a hundred
And I, only two.

Jaya is not the story of a great battle. It's not about kings and men or gods & asuras. Then what is it about I thought, as I kept down the book. I gulped down the book over the weekend occasionally breaking for thoughts and inferences over coffee, but the questions remained. As a young girl I'd read Kabi Sanjay's Mahabharata in Bengali, and needless to say it had its influences deep rooted in me. Probably it started even earlier, if I speculate. The Sunday morning telecasts that filled our household with sounds of conch-shells and brave men, whose voices almost thunder-like, reverberated across the lounge-room downstairs where- atleast a dozen people sat wide-eyed in awe of the epic. Sundays were incomplete without the story telling of 'Samay' and the aroma of 'Luchi' slipping in mischievously through the dining hall. However, my fascination with mythology continued over the years as I read more and more of the Greek tales of the Olympian Gods, the Titans, the Giants, the Nymphs; and the similarities of it all raised several questions which remain unanswered (to my fullest satisfaction) even today. When I picked up 'Jaya' I wasn't looking for answers to be honest. But, it did in a way attempt to instigate them again. Devdutt Pattanaik is a clever writer, he is thorough and steers away from 'point of view' style of writing. I appreciate the fact that he has taken references from the great epic told and retold throughout the subcontinent and merely lay out the different versions - almost like putting together a jigsaw puzzle for the audience aka the reader to go figure. No leading questions were asked and no opinions were slapped on. The myth of the story is not the story itself. It's unlike any other folklore about divinity that you may have heard. The myth is real in the architecture of its foundation. It merely looks into the soul of man and his passage through ages of civilization and attempts to answer the never-ending questions about life and death, spirituality and ideas of possession. Jaya over the mind, Jaya over your inner demons marks the essence of the great epic: Not war, not King-makers, not even familial inter-relations. For those who think the story is about a bunch of mythological characters who never existed and hence not worth reading, I'd urge them to don a different pair of eyes for this story alone. Don't read it as the foundations of Hindu devotions, but read it as a common man who wants to survive boldly & with no regrets, who wants to experience this world like a true intelligent being and maybe, just maybe you will be in for surprises which will shape your thoughts and opinions as you go on in your journey of life.

"Myths lie sleeping, at the bottom of our mind, waiting for our call. We have a need for them, since they represent the wisdom of our race."

I looked out of the auto to see a dead dog and a romancing couple in the same frame and I thought...

2013-09-25T16:15:00.000+05:30

While some died today, some bought new clothes. Peddlers went about selling stuff. Someone made an awesome curry. Someone got mugged in the dark corner of his street. Someone fell in love. Someone was raped and killed brutally. Someone won a bet and filled their pockets. Someone hit a dog on the road and drove on. While some went on romantic dates, someone took sleeping pills to avoid depression. Someone committed suicide. Old couples went on walks in the park while some child was kidnapped from the front yard. Someone shouted a racist slur at the departmental store and someone helped an old lady climb up the stairs. Dilemma is when you don't know whether to rejoice at so much or fall down and cry for the monstrosity of the universe. Even the positive sides have their own negatives it seems.

Mumbai Diaries - Part I

2013-07-07T17:56:00.001+05:30

It was raining like a bitch when we landed. Had a major fight at the airport about some insignificant issue we cant remember anymore, but we remembered the fight. We looked clueless, mostly because we hated the fact that we were in a new place - a place we weren't visiting. We were here to stay. Some random Bollywood song playing in the cab - quite apt for a city ruled by Bollywood. Apart from the rain and the cool air outside, there was nothing I liked about the city. Not yet. We were tired to be honest. Two weeks of madness with the wedding and family and parties and sleepless nights, I wanted to sleep on my own bed. Not that the hotel bed was uncomfortable, but my bed rules. The first two weeks went by like a blur. Looking at apartments I could call a new home was frustrating. Standing on the balcony of a 17th floor flat, I saw high rises and slums all in the same view. Something wasn't quite right. People who know me also know the fact that I hate changes. I hate goodbyes. I missed my city, my apartment, my friends. I want to say I hate this city, wholeheartedly. But something holds me back. An insanely expensive mango fruit cream at Haji Ali might have lifted up my spirits at 2 am in the night. There is something about this place that smells promising. I don't know why they call it the city of dreams - but I'm here to give it a chance.

Bridezillas Unite

2013-03-25T07:52:00.000+05:30

I wish there was some crash course, or a class I could take which would prepare me for the hazardous, inane, shipwrecking-ly nauseating experience that I have been going through for the last one month. Well, in all fairness - people who get married in less than 3 months notice don't get to whine and crib. The get to throw a fit and transmogrify into the most feared creature of them all.
You may think Bridezillas are an urban myth, an old wives tale or fodder for bitchathons but in reality - they exist. We exist.

The crippling pressure of losing control of things faster than you can say 'crap' is the main cause of bridezilla-ness. Some say that it's hereditary, and some think it's peer pressure. ~~Some scientists~~ Some bitches say that it's just lime-light hogging techniques... way before the wedding functions actually start. But from my personal experience it seems to be more of an involuntary act, like something triggered by the full moon of idiocy and complete lack of 'sense of decency' on the parts of "wedding planners", READ: people around you, family, the family of the family and some douche bags who exist only to make your lives miserable. (No seriously, these people get up in the morning with a check-list called douchebagggery task list of the day). Some people would also think it would be fun to put the bride and groom on rotating platforms while they exchange love bands. Yes please! go ahead and put a famished, nauseated bride on a revolving pedestal and watch her puke her insides out. Some people would think it's fun to put 500 kilos of jewelry on the bride. Well, if I am not training to be a drug mule heavy lifting illegal materials out of the country then NO, I don't need to wear 5 different types of necklaces.

Anyway, the point I am trying to drive home is. Please be patient with me for the next two months. If you don't want to be on my wrath list, or get your head chewed off, or want me to sit on your face. Be patient. And I swear this will be over, sooner than you think.

Does it bother you?

2013-01-31T08:52:00.000+05:30

That bestie becomes beastie with auto-correct on your dumb smartphone. That you gain the most calories from your most favorite dishes. That you are fatter than all your friends. That you are working at a job that requires you to stand in a hole and keep digging it bigger. That your life sucks more than the black hole. That you are not a millionaire. That your whole life is a not a tireless journey in search of truth & enlightenment but a tireless journey seeking more money and more power. That you only talk about changing the world and fall asleep on your couch while watching the documentary that talks about changing the world. That you haven't done enough for your parents. That you don't have a clear answer to "what are you up to?" That your socks don't match and you always the lose good ones. That at some point in your life you have swam in a pool where some other kid has pee'd. That starbucks has chai tea latte which basically means 'tea tea latte' (which sounds retarded). That you can jiggle your arm fat. That you have given up (mostly) on your dreams. That people eat rabbit meat. That I am writing this in a paragraph and not in bullet points.

If the answer to the above is yes, then you are a human being. And not a floating mummy from outer space. Congratulations. Btw, did you know ancient Incans carried the mummies of their dead kings and paraded them around the city in some sort of wicked celebration. That is hardcore creepster!

#EndlessHumanRant #UntilNextTime

Madcon - Beggin - Took me 2 years to find this song :O

2013-01-28T09:37:00.001+05:30

I hate it when this happens! Why didn't I hear this one earlier? I blame my friends, who were secretly listening to this one and grooving away while I paddled through filth music. Mebbe not, I had some good ones to hold on to. But this one man, this lifts me up every time I hear it.

Must. Clear. Clutter

2013-01-07T09:56:00.001+05:30

What is it that makes us want to do more? Separates us from the easygoers? Why are we constantly searching for something exciting and, the exciting gets boring the moment we experience it? Why do we envy the silliest things? Part of the questions are answered but parts remain foggy. Like the Delhi cold that everyone has been raving about. I remember a time I used to curse every morning and cry myself to sleep (no seriously cry). I hate cold. And now, I miss it for some weird reason. So weird. My brain, the paradox loves playing these unscientific bizarre-ass games. You hate cold, you loathe cold, aww you miss cold, no you hate cold, I miss boots and sweaters. Slap!

See how I got into a serious mode at the beginning of this post and then went on to write about my silly little problems! I could have easily delved deep into the functioning of human psyche and reached some half-baked analysis which might have sounded like me wearing glasses and writing on a table top with a feathery pen with a pensive look on my face. But no I chose to remain petty. The deal is: I want petty now. But then I also want flying ponies. The point is pointless and my brain plays rude games. Who the hell are you standing beside me eating a coconut out of a giant bagel?

I thought I was dreaming. I was dreaming of a giant bagel with coconut inside it and then I saw this "me" looking person eating it. And I know that "me" was hating it. But eating it nonetheless. Do dreams mean shit?

I went for reflexology, thinking I'll get a relaxing time-out pamper me time. But what I got was 20 mins of pure pain. The 65 year old therapist wasn't easy on me at all. Not only did he point out that I will be fatter than a cow in no time, he also kept shouting at me for being being a sissy and not sitting straight (and trying to run away from therapy). Through the session of what can be summed up as "no uncle, please" and "stop it, sit straight" the words that I remember the most - "so young and you can't sleep. So sad." The 70 year old man sitting next to me was doing some ninja leg exercise and laughing at me. He said.. can you bend your legs like this?? My reaction was .. well..

Anyway, coming back to the real outcome of the coconut-bagel eating, brain puzzling, self-discovery story.... In a far away land, as I sat writing this one 'note-to-self' it read - must - clear -clutter. I'll stick it on to my desk. I'll write it out in my heart and say it loud even.

Must. Clear. Clutter

I can't remember this really great line I read somewhere about New Year Resolutions...

2013-01-02T09:35:00.000+05:30

So, I am going to skip the resolution part and get to the part that is the meat of this post. No one cares about resolutions anyway! Oh, btw, this was my first new year's eve away from besties, boy and family and I am so proud of myself for not crying/cribbing and making a scene. Also there are these things I read online often and love them, and then forget to note them down, and go back searching for them when I am about to write something : which is plain frustrating....so I have one teeny resolution this year - lines that I love, are gonna go into my online doc on the spot. No Procrastination. Now back to the meat.

Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine... or some such line I read somewhere. Never paid heed or believed it till I lived it. Believe me, I am the last person to caste shadows on my own dreams. I'm selfish like that yeah, but sometimes things that you really really want submerge. And you get lured by things which seem so very important at that time, that you forget (or believe that you don't have) your real dreams. 2012 was the year I broke illusions and followed dreams. I'll give myself more credit this time, I took myself seriously after a long time and spent some time thinking of what's next. Was change over-rated? Life lists and all that, shenanigans of an idle mind? I gave myself a shot. The plan was to win. Finally, to achieve something and show it to myself. 2012 was all about me I guess! I'm sure some years down the line, I'd look back and say .. that was a great year!

But, 2013 is here to turn me around in some way or the other, and I can feel it. This one is way beyond new year resolutions and such. The changes I made are finally rippling down and piling up, and it seems I might have a ticking time bomb strapped to my back.

I don't have an appropriate ending to this post. I say, bring it on!

To sum it all up

2012-12-11T12:55:00.000+05:30

Unfamiliar, Warm, Made-up, Busy, Worldly, Artificial, Colors, Crabs, Sticky, Peaceful, Sky line, Rainy.

Day 6 : Eye of the tiger

2012-11-08T07:47:00.000+05:30

My brother has this fascination with Rocky and there was a time when he'd play survivor on the loop (that's how he was preparing for board exams. I think). Anyway so the song has become the background music for my first 6 days in "Singaland". The survival began the day the SMRT top up machine sucked in my money while the Chinese lady behind me said "tch tch cannot". I never saw those 5 dollars back but I did beg random strangers to top up my card for me, got blocked out of the entry bars because of insufficient balance in my card and then decided to man up and try that money swallowing machine one more time. And Success!

I am taking over the public transport ninja crown from PG (who apparently championed the London tube), pfffft please. There's Maya in office who's from London and claims that the tube is a breeze when it comes to the SMRT.. purple, green, red, orange whoaaaa! Oh and did I mention that almost every MRT station will lead up to a frikking mall? How the hell am I supposed to go out in the streets when you lure me to shop every time I reach a place?!

Getting lost here is easy, you just have to ask someone the way to the place. They will misguide you with so much confidence and nod so much that you have to believe them. This is an extremely global community so you will find people from all parts of the world on the streets and they all think that they know the streets of Singapore so well, even though they've probably moved here last month. Plus they will be polite and even smile. Now you must follow their direction and go to the completely opposite direction. One girl asked me to go straight for Moulmein road and all I could see straight was a tree and some bushes.

Also standing in line to get a cheeseburger for 30 mins is so not cool, just because the samurai burger is back in town. If you have waited on a similar line at the McD here you know what I mean. I appreciate the enthusiasm and all, but I wish people would react or rebel a little bit more, like back in Kolkata - chakkka jaam! How did I survive? I quit the line and had rosti with smoked chicken across the road.

The coffee machine threw up on my mug at first but then (survivor playing in the background of course) I read the instructions CAREFULLY, used the right combination of coffee pouch thingies (texture, flavor etc)
and nailed it! Bitch please, you are just a Nespresso machine and I, well I'm a survivor!

Also, for the record (even though I love you now nespresso) but you give me toooo many options. Do I want woody, floral or fruity, lightly roasted or decaf! Really now? do you want me to create my own unique coffee or should just go down to Starbucks! Ok don't hate me, I love you now.

All in all, I guess I've survived the first week and kick-assed for the most part of it, but I'm following the "Do not insult the mother alligator until after you have crossed the river" rule.

Love it! hate it!

2012-11-05T17:43:00.003+05:30

So I've reached Singapore, and goes without saying that I have been feasting on the local cuisine since Saturday. For a sea food lover, it doesn't get any better than this. But wait it does, an office with a view of the bay.. wait what! Oh yeah, the white sail boats do distract me a bit at work, but then that's a small price to pay for an arrangement like that. I conquered the public transport bit today, checked out all the green lines & red lines and what not and managed to reach office on time without getting lost at all. Cockiness aside, I'm loving the streets, the clean green effect, the sky high concrete and the food of course. To sum it all up, I am miserable really. All I want to do is head back to my apartment in Delhi, pull on the covers (eat Peppy tomato chips) and watch Bigg Boss with my boy at 9pm everyday. Reality check - this might have been a bad idea after all. No verdict yet, the love-hate continues. Maybe, I miss him more than I love this place.

#Homesickness#extremeblah#can'ttakesomuchclean.... Nooooooooo!

A blue flower

2012-10-17T02:26:00.001+05:30

A blue flower he gave me once, to keep it safe, bright & warm.

Gentle & plain, infinite as love

It stays with me for times to come.

Withered... a petal or two I fix it with haste, secure it back up to it's former grace

This day it came with a scroll on thunder

It seems unreachable now, this destiny of ours

Why seemingly there on a spiral grey tower, within reach... it could be ours.

Together we climb, but alone I fall. Over and over until I stall.

This I tell him, we must preserve, save it now before it withers.

The blue is fading as I make this chase.

So I let it fall and shed a tear on his face.

It's time to part so we say goodbye but long to hold what can't be mine

A lucid dream, I take a breath and run towards my safest place

In my mind I see so clear

A blue flower, now on the spiral tower.

Unpacking a million times over...

2012-10-15T19:42:00.000+05:30

Coherent love or not -

I've been trying to write this post for a while, but with each attempt I realized how hard it is to pen down these thoughts in a coherent manner. So finally, this attempt is gonna be somewhat of a collage of thoughts, random memories and unfinished sentences. It's important to express the love sometimes, even if it's not extremely coherent.

The treasures I dug out -

The love for this city has been growing. From a confused, aspiring 22 year old to a more calmer version of the wild child I used to be. I've loved this city to bits, every single day of my last 5 years.
From the very first day I knew I was meant to be here. New Delhi was my home. I never felt out of place, never felt like I didn't belong, and it was always comforting to come back to Delhi wherever I went. It's breathtaking this city really... it's beautiful, it's big & bold ... and green. From finding love, to making the best of friends, and finally understanding yourself....this city has been my confidante.

I'm packing my bags-

And now that it's time to say goodbye.. I don't know how. A big one on my life list might get crossed off and I knew this day would come. But so soon! Such little time I had, but it seems like I've been here forever. Every little memory etched into my mind. A house I turned into a home. Cooking for friends. Lone walks across citywalk, sitting on the pavement with coffee and smokes watching the strangers pass by with huge shopping bags. Chinese joints, Nizam's kathi rolls, late night movies and 2 am dhabas with egg maggi and chai.

The love of my life -

Leaving behind everything that shaped me into what I am today can never be easy. Leaving behind the person you love most, the people who stand strong with you through thick and thin, the comfort of the home you created sincerely one tiny detail at a time. It seems like a mammoth task right now. Should I pack my favorite blanket? I'm still pinning thoughts and struggling with the finer details. But one thing makes it easy.. knowing the fact that he is ready to follow me into this new journey. When I look back, he'll be right there with a suitcase and a smile. That's going to make this all better. Singapore has tough shoes to fill. This city is tough to beat, these people are are one of their kind. The love is unparalleled.

The mirror to my soul -

I don't where I'll be in the next ten years, and I don't really want to talk or think about it now, but I do know that wherever I am unpacking my suitcase...this city will always be my steamy love affair, my hot cuppa, my late night maggi and the mirror to my soul. I'm still looking for excuses to stay back, and unpacking a million times in my mind.

Madness wins

2012-10-05T15:26:00.001+05:30

The unending complications of the human mind is a blessing in the guise of unnecessary evil. Or is it simply madness, and nothing else? It's hard to answer leading questions anyway, but to attempt something which is beyond my purview of basic understanding is not only impossible, but also foolish.

I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of people. Well, technically I can't calculate the motion of heavenly bodies. Issac Newton can. And hence this quote of desperation comes from him. So imagine a mere mortal like me, (dragging my ass to a 9 - 5 job - who laughs at fart jokes and barely passed math in school), attempting to crack the code of this madness. The point I am trying to make is - nothing.

Don't get mad yet, there was no point. It was just an observation. I observed a lot of madness around me lately and attempted to crack the reality behind it (read: melodrama, self induced confusion, hula hoops of reality checks & going back to mind-numbing melodrama again). Not that I was just an innocent bystander. No sir. Last week, I've asked myself some pretty disturbingly dumb questions, lost sleep over it, wrote some nonsense posts which I thankfully didn't blog out loud and then questioned the moral integrity of people around me & people I loved most seemed nothing less than blood enemies.

Modern Family helped me get over a lot of it. I love that show, it's all about the madness in people - but the portrayal is so adorable that you end up feeling less fucked up about the madness inside and around you. Heck I wanna be adorably mad too. I wanna ransack someone's house to figure out if the bugger actually did return that T-shirt or not; Cam pulled it off and so can I.

So I am officially giving in to it. Madness I embrace you with open arms, let's be cute together!

Cheers!

P.S - official warning to the boy - I might start crying and laughing at the same time while sleep-eating. Keep it together.

Unfair choices

2012-10-01T15:36:00.004+05:30

Choices are hard. Not that it was ever meant to be easy, but still there should be a benchmark to the extremities of choices no.. Like Vanilla vs. Chocolate ice cream is fine. I am even ok with picking sides sometimes maybe. But what is this horrible choice about health, love and work. It seems I can only chose one right now. The word of the day is unfair. Hard choices, come bring it on bitches! I'll choose the fuck out of you. But unfair choices?! come on, now that hurts.

This one's by mom...

2012-09-21T16:28:00.000+05:30

For years, I've been telling my mom to start publishing her work online. My love is for the written word she'd say, not so much for the typed out version. Jokes apart, I made some serious attempts to make her post things online and needless to say the attempt was an epic fail. So, here's me.. taking things into my own hands and posting one of her recent works. For the Bengali poem lovers out there this one is surely a #moodlifteroftheday :)

আমার জন্যে তুমি ....

নীল পায়রা হও

চার্চ এর বাতি হও

সব কথা শুনব তোমার

শরতের কাশফুল হলে --

আলোর বনে

খুঁজবো তোমায়

শান্ত নদীর ডিঙ্গি নৌকা যদি --

ভেসে যাব অবেলায়

ভোরের সানাই হও

বাতাসের কানে

সেতারের সুর হয়ে এসো

কোনো এক রাতে।

-সহেলি রায়