Confessions of a Bonafide Adult

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 09:18:00 +0000

I am touched that even after disappearing for ages, people still comment on posts on this blog. :) But I have another blog now - a mix of everything including makeup/perfume/clothes and such girly things, but also some of my writing (and with more to come). I don't know when I will post here again, but if you would like to read some of my thoughts, drop by the other blog. :) It's called Les Pensées de Ki. I'm starting college soon and learning to be a grown up and I'll be writing all about it there, I promise. :)

And it's a strange feeling...

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Wed, 25 May 2011 15:39:00 +0000

...when it seems like you don't know yourself anymore. You don't know the girl that went to college, that had a great job, that loved to read and to go to dance class.

And it's a strange feeling when some 'time off' seems to make you confused about where you wanted to go in the first place - do you really want that Master's in sociology? Or this business idea that you have - are you really good enough?

And it's a strange feeling when you're not just a baby anymore and you have to shoulder some responsibilities, when no one is going to take care of you anymore, when you have to stand up and do what is right and not what you want.

My name is Aparajita Karthik and I am rediscovering myself in bits and pieces. What I've learned so far?
Well, I really need to start writing again and I'm making a conscious effort to keep a journal. I'm not half as good as I used to be, but it's easy to get better when you know you used to be good.
I'm not sure about Sociology - I couldn't tell you anything about how a Masters degree in that would benefit me. But I do know that I want to start studying French again and once we're done with our move next month, I plan to join again. 3 hours a day/5 days a week. Sounds intense, huh? Well, just because I don't want to study Sociology doesn't mean I should sit at home and be a dud. And yes, I do know that I want to create my own makeup in the future someday, which brings me to the wonderful point about being responsible.
I need to work and earn some money and start saving to be able to do that someday. More importantly, my husband, who runs two houses on one person's salary would appreciate me taking some of it on.

Sigh. Married life is a blast, thankgod because growing up AND living a blah life while doing it would be the death of me. Still, there is a lot to do and one silly little Ki who has to learn to do it.

back to square one

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 17:39:00 +0000

Alone. Living on phone calls. Waiting.

Dear diary

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 10:51:00 +0000

Dear Diary,

I remember how it used to feel when I liked a guy, when there was someone special in my life - that little smile that never left my face, that habit of staring into space and giggling to myself, the endless spate of phone calls and text messages that I tried so hard to hide and all the excuses I made to get out of my house just to meet him. Unfortunately, mom would always figure out something was up and then there would be an endless series of questions and arguments, sometimes even big fights were mean things were said that we both wept about afterwards. But even the thought of that couldn't dampen the pleasure that came with having a 'boyfriend'.

And now that I have grown up enough to stop running after boys, enough to stop falling for any random guy that professes his love for me, the tables have turned. I watch mom smiling, that beautiful wide smile that we haven't seen for years, as she sends messages on her phone. All her phone conversations are carried out in the privacy of the balcony and if I listen hard enough, I can hear giggles. She has vague sounding training programs and conferences even on weekends. Heck, she even took a vacation alone. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I cannot deceive myself when everything is happening before my eyes. I keep looking for a moment to stop my mom and ask her, just as she used to ask me, "so who's the guy?". Like she did to me, I want to shake her, snap her out of her lovelorn reverie and remind her that she has responsibilities, a family.

And then I catch a glimpse of my dad. I see the love in his eyes when he looks at mom. I watch him follow her around the house, showering her with hugs and kisses, trying his best to lessen the burden on her shoulders. I see how he let mom go on that solo vacation, even though we could ill afford it. I watch how he pays those elevated mobile phone bills, how he ignores those endless conversations, how he subconsciously makes excuses for all those actions that I have come to hate mom for. And that shuts me up. No matter what I want to say to her, I could never do that to dad.

So there you go diary. Life as usual - messy and complicated in every possible way.

Vanya.

The new family

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 03:47:00 +0000

A salwar kameez clad girl stood outside a building in Madras. There was a man standing on the first floor of the building, beaming down at her encouragingly, beckoning her upstairs. With her mother pushing her forward, she slowly climbed the staircase. Each step seemed to take more effort than the last, until she saw them both standing together - the man who had called her upstairs and his wife, a tiny little lady who looked a little nervous. The moment they spotted her, they welcomed her with open arms. She smiled - maybe meeting his parents wasn't going to be that hard after all.

As you have clearly guessed, that girl was me. And the beaming man and tiny lady are Ka's parents, my future in laws. It sounds silly to say it now, but I was so scared of ogre like in laws that I almost died of nervousness the day I made that trip. And now, I complain to my mom in law about Ka, I exchange smses with his dad - it's amazing how they have given me the perfect little place in their family, without me trying too hard to fit in.

It's not just them I was afraid of though, I had built up an image of Ka's sister in my mind which I'm sorry to say was rather mean. Blame it on the Hindi serials that I watch, but I had pictured a scheming sis in law who would hate me and try her best to create obstacles in my way. Far from it. She gives me practical advice on every little thing related to being married - it's like she is my guardian angel when it comes to setting up home and getting married and I LOVE that about her.

What I love more about her though is her son. Ka's nephew and (soon to be) my nephew! He is such an adorable little kid, he chats with me on the phone for ages about everything from school to books (we're both reading Rick Riordan and like Artemis Fowl!!!) to his attempts to learn Hindi. I love how our conversations and uninhibited, almost as if we were friends. I love how smart he is and how whenever I ask him a questions, he thinks carefully before replying - it's such an adult thing to do but it fits his personality perfectly.

The person I was most scared of though, has got to be Ka's brother in law i.e., his sister's husband. I just don't do too well with men in general - they're usually not very good talkers, there are awkward pauses and weird "hmmm"s peppering the conversation. Plus I had no idea what on earth to call him. The short version of his name and my nickname are the same!!! And I'm sorry, but I draw the line at calling someone by MY name. And that too, a man. God! But one day, not so long ago, my grandfather lost his hearing. After a week full of anxiety, it turned out that the doctor had given an incorrect diagnosis and that there was very little chance that he could ever hear again. I called Ka in tears and he did the most sensible thing he has ever done - he called his brother in law (who is a geriatric doctor btw). For the next two days, my mom was constantly in touch with him and he went out of his way to find out the right course of action for my grandfather. Happy ending? Yes, indeed. While my grandfather's hearing couldn't be 100% salvaged, it did get much better with the right treatment. After this, I was in awe of Ka's brother in law. When I finally spoke to him this Diwali, all I could manage was a feeble "thank you". He sounded so warm and kind on the phone! I cannot wait to meet him now.

So there you go - Ka's parents, his sister, his nephew and his brother in law - my amma and appa, my didi, my nephew and my brother in law. I'm lucky to have them all. :)

Life as it is

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 08:15:00 +0000

The good:

I'm working on a book where *I* am the editor.
The wedding is just 2 and a half months away.
I'm blogging again (sort of).

The bad:

Not one of my so-called friends is coming for my wedding. Has life after college pulled us THAT far apart?

memories

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 11:02:00 +0000

A friend once promised me that a long distance relationship would be horrid because I would “forget every goddamn thing that was a reason to love him.” At the time, I thought he had a point. The worst times in my relationship with Ka were the days preceding his move to France, with both of us petrified of change to the extent that we made promises about breaking up if it got too hard.

Did it get “too hard?” It most certainly did. We had hundreds of little arguments, lots of big fights and even a few serious episodes when everything looked like it would go just downhill.

But I have a trick – I think of his smile. I doubt if anyone has ever seen Ka smile in any of the photographs he’s got up on Orkut, Facebook or the like. He gets by mostly by looking into the camera with serious eyes and a little smirk playing about his lips, but never a smile.

It is only when he is amused by my silly antics or looking at me lovingly that he breaks into a smile. And what a smile it is! It lights up his entire face, including those piercing eyes. That smile is one of the reasons that I fell in love with him and its carefully preserved memory is what gets me through arguments and fights – big and small. My friend was wrong – it is something I could never forget.

To anyone who is afraid of being apart from someone they love, all I can say is – take one memory and keep it carefully in your heart. And wait till you can recreate it all over again. And if you do forget, ask yourself whether it was love, after all or simply a game of pretence.

Don't quite know what to write

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 10:09:00 +0000

What do you write when one of the people you admired the most has left the world?

My great grandmom died day before yesterday. Yes, I'm saying died. Not passed away, 'no more' or other such genteel versions of the cold, hard truth. I got to see her lifeless, shrivelled up body ravaged by years of sickness. I got to see her being tied to a wooden pyre and being carried off. I got to even place a few grains of rice in her mouth before she got cremated. But I didn't get the chance to say goodbye. We got there too late.

She used to cook, clean and wash her own (9 yard) saris even till 4-5 years back. Considering that she died at the age of 97, that just shows how she was - life personified. Generations and generations benefited from her loving warmth - my grandfather and his family, my mom and her siblings, my siblings and I. There isn't anyone in the family she hasn't fed, bathed, clothed and lovingly scolded. Even though she was very unwell over the past few years, she fought to stay around for the birth of my cousin's baby a few months ago, her brother's engagement and my engagement. She wanted to come for the weddings too - I guess that wasn't meant to be.

To say that we'll miss her is an understatement. We're all going on with our lives and in a while, the searing pain of her loss will be gone. But there's a void in our hearts where she used to be. And it's never going to get filled in. I can see myself ten years from now, thinking of her just as much as I am today, telling my babies the very stories that she used to tell, feeding them the same comfort food and telling them about the great great (well, GREATEST) grandmother that they could ever have known.

25. 30. 35.

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 10:36:00 +0000

So I found a cure for the 'oh I'm growing up' freak out that had taken over me these past few days. I mean, I'd started to get an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I'd think about the future. It seemed like an endless stretch of maturity and responsibility. EW. So I sat and spent an hour doing my most favourite thing ever - I made a list. But not just any list. This is the 25-30-35 list and it made me the happiest I've been these past few days! :D And here it goes (not in order of priority):

BY THE TIME I TURN 25, I WANT TO:

Start taking dance classes again
Learn to cook food from three different types of cuisines
Go to Paris with Karthik
Learn Italian
Go to Italy and practice that Italian
Sponsor a kid's education
Get a fish pedicure
Finish my Masters
Go to Disneyland
Get red streaks in my hair
Own the perfect black dress and pair of heels
Get a tattoo

BY THE TIME I TURN 30, I WANT TO:

Go to Egypt and Turkey
Teach kids (what? I'm not so sure)
Learn how to read and write in Tamil
Get laser surgery on my eyes
Get a pet
Have kids

BY THE TIME I TURN 35, I WANT TO:

Write a book
Buy a house
Stop working full time

(Best part? This is 100% realistic and fiance approved. :D :D :D)

Feeling whiny

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 17:30:00 +0000

How do you ever know when you're grown up enough to be responsible for yourself? How do you know when you no longer need to be fed and pampered and taken care of? How do you know when you're old enough to find a job and keep at it?

Aside from the fact that marriage to my (then) boyfriend is the most magical thing that's ever going to happen to me, I realise it comes with a bucket-load of responsibilities. No more sleeping till noon just 'cos I feel like it, no more skipping college (and soon work) just because I'm lazy or my hair looks crappy, no more waiting to be served at the dining table myself, no more magically washed and ironed clothes on my bed... the list, quite frankly, is both long and scary. I try to tell myself to suck it up and well, gear up for everything to come. I mean, my fiance does it. And without whining. How tough can it be?!

Oh who am I kidding?! I'm a pseudo adult. I like being fed when I'm tired and grumpy. I hate most household chores (washing vessels and dusting being exceptions) and bribe my brother to do them for me. I rarely cook 'ghar ka khaana', it's mostly pizza, pasta type of stuff that no one can eat on a daily basis. Plus you know what my ideal day is? Wake up, watch a movie, eat, bathe (sometimes), watch another movie, eat, watch HIMYM or Ugly Betty or... you get the damn picture, don't you?!!!

And this may be slightly unrelated but I'm scared of moving to France as well. It's a new country, a new city, a new job (hopefully) and a new college (HOPEFULLY). And I'm oddly quiet around new people - which by the way, is something I didn't discover till the last few days of college when EVERYONE told me, "Oh you came across as quite a snob" (except replace 'snob' with 'stuck up bitch'!) I never thought I'd say this, but I want to stay in India. And not just that, I want to stay with my in laws in Madras. If my fiance's reading this, he's going to be very surprised and I cannot blame him because one of the first times that the possibility of staying with his parents came up, I was less than glad. But I LOVE them now! And I want to stay with them and take care of them. And help around the house and all, but not so much that the word 'housework' make me feel queasy, you know? And of course, they dote on me as well and my dad in law totally takes my side over ka's so yeah, it'd be great if we could do that. But of course - not happening.

Anyhoo, this rant has run its course and I'd just like to say that I DO love ka with all my heart and I'm absofreakinlutely EXCITED about the life that we're going to live together. As long as he does most of the housework and cooking. And you know, gets me a TV. :D

My name is?

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 09:39:00 +0000

I was the first grandchild on mom's side of the family and my parents' first born as well. Much before I was born, my parents had decided to call me Kirti. It means fame and of course, they wished that their little daughter would grow up to be famous worldwide. :D

Enter the pandit at the 'namkaran' ceremony who was shocked at their choice of name. "Bada hi ashubh hai.", he reportedly screeched and ordered my parents to name me something starting with 'A'. So after much deliberation, I was named Aparajita after a character that Vyjanthimala (spelling?) portrays in some film.

Thus began a lifelong tussle between my 'ghar ka naam' and my 'school waala naam'. Kirti was the naughty little chit of a girl who was spoilt rotten by everyone at home and Aparajita went on to become the serious, studious type who sat quietly and read in a corner while her classmates rolled in the dust outside. I'm not talking like I'm schizophrenic to freak you guys out, that's just how it was. It took me many years to open up and tell my friends to call me Kirti which relieved me from the burden of being good little Aparajita all the time! Of course, names never stay as they are. So Kirti became Ki, Kiki, Kiku and all such sorts of nonsense. And when I was old enough to have them, the steady stream of boyfriends in my life would use the stereotyped 'baby', sweetheart', 'darling' endearments instead of my name, which made me even more infuriated with what I have come to call 'the name situation'.

The boyfriends became history but the confusion continued. My in laws wouldn't call me Kirti! And why not?! Because their son in law's name is also Kirti! Apart from cringing at the fact that my name seems to be a unisex one, I was stuck wondering what they could call me. Ki wasn't 'proper' and despite that fact that it has been suggested to me many times, Appu was a BIG, FAT NO!!!!!!!! My dad in law finally solved my problem by deciding to call me Chikku, what he used to call my fiance when he was a baby. It's not my name of choice but I'd rather be named after a fruit (chikku) than an elephant (appu)! And of course, the fiance himself calls me anything from 'wifey' to jackass' to 'barbie'. Thanks baby!!!

The conclusion? There isn't one. Every time someone calls me, it takes me a minute or two to turn out, I realise too late when I'm being referred to in conversations and I end up ignoring my teachers very often when they go 'Apaaaaaaraaaaaaaajitaaaaaaaaaa'. :D Okay so that last one is often on purpose but that doesn't mean I'm not facing a genuine problem! Ask me what my name is and you'll know!!!

He said, she said

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 14:46:00 +0000

She tripped for the millionth time that day. He'd been watching her from the corner of his eye, so he knew just when to stretch his arm out and stop her from hitting the ground.

He said - You are SUCH a freak. *amused look*

She said - FINE. *pout*

He said - I like you okay? :)

She said - *kiss*

:D (updated)

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 14:45:00 +0000

For more go to - http://kirtikarthikwedding.wordpress.com/the-engagement/photos/

I'm OFF :D

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 07:21:00 +0000

It's my last day of singledom. EVER. And I cannot wait for it to get over.

Just a thought

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 08:47:00 +0000

I read something in the newspaper today about women feeling bad about their bodies. Now while I'd like to pretend like I love every bit of me, the truth is that I'm very insecure about how I look. Not that anyone's said anything to me. But in a world of airbrushed, size zero beauties - I've half convinced myself that I'm so far from perfect that it's cause for concern. This year is the year I get married, the year that so many eyes will be watching me and it's been driving me nuts. I keep staring at myself looking for problems that need fixing.

But today I saw a few old photos of myself - I look so happy and radiant and free from worries. No facial, no threading, waxing, botox in the world can achieve that look. And I AM happy. I'm happy beyond belief! So I just have to accept myself as I am. Because the guy I love has. Because, the truth is, I AM beautiful. And I used to believe it. I just need to rediscover that belief.

I know I said I wouldn't blog but...

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 11:34:00 +0000

...I also thought my boyfriend would be MIA (missing in action) from his own engagement.

Love story :P

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 12:30:00 +0000

A random meeting+a few comments on blogger+a few general emails = finding the love of your life? Doesn't sound possible, does it? Well it happened to me. The same guy who started off as that random friend, then became the guy I'd ask for boyfriend advice (yes, I feel silly even admitting it) and became so close that we'd exchange hundreds of text messages every day without it amounting to any logical conversation announced one beautiful Sunday morning that he'd never let me go back if I ever came to France and that he wants my ring size! Surprisingly, despite not having known him for very long, I didn't say no.

We had the longest conversations planning our lives together, unsure when and how it would happen but getting more and more convinced that we were headed in one direction. Sort of stupid of us, really, considering that we stayed at opposite ends of the country and that he kept travelling abroad. Still, he'd keep meeting me whenever possible and spent gazillions of rupees on phone bills - staying by my side through the smallest of things like shopping trips and huge things like exams.

He was moving to France though and both of us had huge arguments about how we were going to manage this version of long distance. It was a scary time for us both and we were at our uncertain best. But we got through that as well. My brave man even faced up to my mom's questioning and told her his "intentions" and she was floored! After some initial reservations, even his parents agreed wholeheartedly. It all happened so quickly that even now, I stop to think how we could have been so lucky.

It was a big decision planning when and how we would get married. I'm just twenty so we had to answer a lot of questions and ignore numerous hurtful comments. But hats off to my parents, they managed everyone's curiousity very well and (I suspect) they didn't even let half the crap reach me. And of course, he was always there, rushing out of meetings to walk up and down the corridor in his office, pacifying me! His parents, despite health issues, have gone all out in the planning process and I could not have found nicer in laws. I'm grateful that I will never have to face the typical evil mother in law!!!

Why am I reliving all this now? Because I'm going to be his fiancée in one week! I won't be blogging for a bit ('cos I have to go get engaged!!!) but this long post should more than make up for my absence. I'm signing off with a gust post that he had once written for my blog.

Dear Kirti,

Oh boy! What can I say about you that hasn't been said before?!! Smart, chirpy, full of life & an awesome writer! And beneath all of that is someone with a wonderful heart that cares very much for people & makes them feel at ease in any given situation.

I remember the first bits of conversation surrounding marriage & what we felt about it, discussing the pros & cons of every situation. And we have never looked back since then, have we? It's amazing to know that we have grown so fond of each other over such a short span of time. The first few conversations made you see the real Karthik, the perennially sarcastic one with a very practical approach to life, with absolutely no flavor for hypothetical situations. But you did not give up on me, did you? You were very persistent in making sure that I said something other than 'hmmmm' in varying intonations. And I am pleasantly surprised that it is possible for me speak for half of the time during our conversations. Yay! :D

You've been by my side while I've made some very important decisions in my life. Been by my side during all this crazy travel & made me feel as though everything's normal & never gave me the chance to feel homesick. Vodafone & T-Mobile will be laughing their way to the bank this quarter :D

What story wouldn't be complete without a few tiffs? Remember the time I stood in the sun for 34 minutes? Or the time I stood by the lake in sub-zero temperatures? Or the time I was almost carried away by a gust of storm wind? Oh oh oh, how about the time.. Err, never mind, you get the point don't you? :P
Whenever you feel like yelling at poor little Karthik, give yourself a little whack on the head & you'll see things crystal clear :)

I sense that this is fast becoming a post about Karthik Jayaraman & not Ki. So here goes!

Kirti Aparajita Kumar, you truly are a great friend, a great listener (even if you don't realise that by now), the perfect confidante & I am oh so glad that I found you!! :)

All the best for everything that's ahead of you, you silly little bundle of joy. Rest assured that Oldie's out there looking after you.

Loads of love,

Karthik

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! :) :) :)

I'm glowing :D

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 04:37:00 +0000

I've been unwell for AGES now. I had a bout of herpes, followed by fever and an eye inflammation that just won't go away. I'm not allowed to wear my contacts either so I'm feeling all frumpy in my specs. And to top it all off, my skin's been looking all tired and stressed and you all know why I'm trying to look gorgeous!

But I'm not writing this post to whine about my problems in life (yes, you can heave a sigh of relief now). This is to review something that has worked wonders for my skin and made me look radiant - the Biotique Clove Oil and Wild Turmeric face pack.

This pack is an anti-blemish pack so it's very suitable for those who are prone to pimples or spots or those who want to slightly even out their patchy skin. It spreads on to the face very easily but has a slightly tingly sensation that might take a bit of getting used to. However, that doesn't last very long and the pack is dry in a jiffy. You can wash it off with warm water but I gently swabbed it off with cotton pads dipped in rose water.

I'm not usually the type to put something that I've not whipped up myself on my face. But I made an exception to try this out and I'm beyond pleased with the results. Try it if you're in the mood for a skin pick me up.

But if you'd rather not spend and you want scrumptious skin, I have a home made solution for dull, patchy skin. Just mix two tbsp of curd with one tbsp honey and apply it onto your face. Wash off with warm water in ten minutes. And go out looking your radiant best!

P.S. Yes I know I've never reviewed anything beauty related ever. But I may make this a regular feature. Any feedback? Like it or hate it, let me know. :D

Facing up to things

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 04:18:00 +0000

God. Sometimes I wish I had been more of a girly girl all my life. You know the kind I mean? Perfect clothes, styled hair, shades, high heels and flawless make up that almost isn't there. Me? I wear whatever I like even if it isn't perfect, my hair has a zillion bad days, I've never worn shades, I hate heels and I've NEVER worn make up. Sure, I'm a kajal (kohl) addict and I own a gazillion lip balms but that's it. And suddenly, life springs a wedding on me.

I know I'll be expected to have some make up on. And I'm going to have to throw myself at the mercy of some parlour lady and hope for the best. But the problem is - the major functions are in Madras. So it won't even be MY parlour! To make things worse, my boyfriend insists that make up will make me look either orange or deathly white and "plastic". Great. Just great. Way to take the pressure of me baby.

I asked a few friends and went out and bought something called Maybelline Matte Mousse. It looked good in the shop. Really, it did. And it felt all soft and like it would be like heaven to put on. Nope. I tried some on for a party yesterday and ended up with people asking me why I was looking so pale. And this with my engagement less than two weeks away. Now I'm scared out of my wits. What if I look like a clown?! I know what I want - a tinted moisturiser type of thing. Something that's barely there but makes my skin a bit more 'wow'. But I don't know where on earth I'm going to find something like that. Help?

Holi

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 07:14:00 +0000

I stopped playing Holi two three years ago. I'm not sure why I stopped - maybe because my best friend moved away or maybe because people started playing with eggs and grease and some weird silver paint that wouldn't wash off no matter what. But today, I woke up with an excited feeling in the pit of my stomach. My mind screeched 'holi haiiiiiiiiiiiiiii' and I decided that I WOULD go down to play, no matter what.

Yeah, that didn't happen. I'm having some eye problems and my engagement being just ten days away (yes, I count the days. Wouldn't you?!) my worried parents decided that I wasn't allowed to play Holi this year. So while the three of them (my parents and my brother) ran downstairs, I was forced to watch all the excitement from my balcony. I felt like such a fool for missing all this excitement all these years. All the kids would crowd under my balcony and yell at me to come down but I'd nod sagely from above and pretend like I was too old for colours and water balloons. I guess I always thought I could go back when I wanted.

And now, it's over. This was my last Holi in Delhi. Next year, I'll be in France (I think) where no one's even heard of this wonderful festival (stupid froggies) or in Chennai where I'm not sure people play Holi or even if they do, I'm not sure who I'd play with or what my in laws would think if I came back looking all 'bluegreenpinkredyellow'!

Anyway, Happy Holi to you all. Hope you played to your hearts' content, enough to make up for my not playing! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH to Dm and HAPPY ENGAGEMENT MONTH to me!!! :)

P.S. The link for the wedding webpage is there on the header. Do check it out. :D

Back with a bang

noreply@blogger.com (ki) — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 09:38:00 +0000

I started blogging around 3 years back, I think. I just needed a place where my seventeen year old self could shout out at the world without being shouted at in return. (And if any of you knew me when I was that confused seventeen year old, you'll recognise the blog's name as well.)

But at twenty, I KNOW that the world isn't a very kind place, that even in the blog world, there are always people who are out to get you for their own 'meancreepytwisted@##@$%%@' reasons. So why am I back to blogging? Because there's another thing that I've learnt in these three years (and was reminded of by a few people) - running away doesn't solve anything. I like blogging. I like writing in a place where I know for a fact that people will be reading. I like the friends that my blog has introduced me to. So I'm going to keep at it and this time, for good.