Serendipity of Nonsense

Earthen floors, maybe clay even. Lamplight, flickering but not eerie, casting warm shadows on uneven stone walls, smooth to the touch nevertheless. Inside the room, the lamp makes everything yellow, orange, amber, brown. Its light is bright enough to make the outlines of the objects in the room visible, but not bright enough for individual colours, textures, to be seen clearly. A thin curtain separates this little oasis of light from the rest of the world. Outside, the night hasn't yet surrendered to dawn and the sky and the world shift between shades of blue, as if uncertain whether it's time for light or darkness. There are no trees outside, only bare mountains, rock and stone, but beautiful in a hard way and not inhospitable. Inside, on the cool floor, a cold breeze rippling across the room, I sit cross-legged , covered with some kind of dark, woollen shawl or robe, only my face uncovered as I drink hot, spicy, unfamiliar tea through a small earthen  pot. ...

All my life no words could have rung truer than when Carrie Bradshaw sleepily announced,"But I rationalized that my new shoes shouldn't be punished just because I can't budget." unquote UO Red Ballerina Flats  Beer bellied men buy real estates, the MBA victims spend on mutual funds, S.P Tulsian and market incarnations alike tend to imbue in other's hard earned money, most Indian women buy jewelery, the boy next door sinks in his packet of chips and the young man endows in his present date.  I buy shoes. Well, I invest in shoes. ahem! sounds better now. My hard earned allowance. My choice. But not in the very responsible and economic way of buying shoes. I just sometimes, by very unfortunate luck miss being able to afford food. But what the heck! the tacky  Gallianos' I have a closet full of uncomfortable heels and soles that can put up an unfair competition to  J'Lo;s wig collection . And I do not even let my mother throw them ...

My Dida (read:grandma) and Ma were having major gripes ever since I disappeared one Saturday afternoon ages ago and got my traces cut "all by myself". And I entered the house with such a show and pomp with my new short haircut and red highlights(which any human with normal vision could not even see). But my mother being her, actually claimed that all my hair has gone red, and that I was a 'red-head'.  Ever since then every time I get a haircut, I lose interest in the first one week and I die to get another one, despite the sucking hair growth since the last 4 years.  There were times I would get tummy twangs watching my hair grow and would run for a haircut every 15 days. I still crib about having a haircut every month, thankfully my roommate successfully can hold me back. Now thats the Quirky me! Cut to dida and Ma:  Anything that happens, my recent haircut is blamed. Even if I get a toothache, they manage to find ways to connect to...