Serendipity of Nonsense

Everybody gets to hear them at some point. Before job interviews and first dates, while writing scholarship essays and before meeting prospective spouses. Just be yourself, darling, they're told. Me; not so much. I get pearls like, "Don't use long words and scare him off", "Don't make fun of anybody", "Maybe you should tone down your bitchy a notch", "Don't be sarcastic and intimidating, you know - don't be all...   you ." A quick survey of my immediate social circle reveals that people think I'm loud, abrasive, sarcastic, cynical, overbearing, domineering, high-maintenance, blunt, semi-attractive (despite all this, apparently), not as cool as I think I am, evil, weird, hard-assed novice feminist. If one colleague is to be believed, barely a woman at all*. An overwhelming majority of people also assure me that I shouldn't worry because I   will  find the right man, all the above points notwithstan...

I love this time of the year because the air feels like silk over your skin. The wind still retains a little bite and the nights are perfect for long-winded stories, remembrances of a softer time. This time of the year has always been amazing, because there always was a book to be finished in the sweet sun gazing through the curtains, exams to be done away with and meeting friends again. There always was the first smell of mud and then of the spring lilies.  I remember my mother being good with plants. Putting down new roots, adding here, pruning there. Organic fertiliser, and lots of love. Chrysanthemums and snowballs, forget-me-nots and dahlias, gladioli and daisies. Home grown tomatoes and mint leaves, flat beans from the garden in the balcony. Fragrance in spring; sharp and piquant, mellow and soothing. Bursts of color amidst seas of green, celebrating life in the only way that mattered. Life turned brown for so long in between that I stopped looking for spring. The s...

Disclaimer : It is a long post. Very Long. Some where it will feel I am talking to myself, kindly ignore. In our times, the most inaccurate and overused word is a "mutual breakup". I am an expert at this because I've had multiple  mutual breakups, we are friends now because I initiated those.  Save it sweethearts, there is nothing like one. There is nothing mutual about a breakup. You can go through the dusty, never touched archives in the history of relationships and see for yourself; never have two people realise  spontaneously that they want to call it off and expressed it at the exact same moment. Never. It's always one person suggests it and then the other one, seldom with a smile, often with a simple shrug, other times with a lot of drama and more often with a lot of waterworks, accepts the suggestion. Some don't, well then you can't even call it a breakup, can you? There are times of course; when one person suggests breaking up, the ot...

"Sorry Madam, we don't open before 11 a.m" "But you are open. Already." "We cannot serve you before eleven" "I will die" Not many customers say these three words to a coffee shop counter person. That day she made an exception. And also the Cappuccino. While making a mental note to hide under the counter, the next time she sees this crazy girl walk-in.  Getting a coffee shop to start operating earlier than they should and shut later than they should, is one of my talents. I cultivate it.  Addiction teaches you many a things.  Not only am I an addict. I am a fussy addict.  It has to be a cappuccino. It has to be in a takeaway cup, extra hot, lot of froth. I want my opium designed to my specifications. If the froth and fragrance are right, normalcy sets in. Else, god help. :) Too many people have taken the pain for me. I want to kiss all their hands. Like the guys in the coffee shop at the tinsel tow...

An hour ago a good friend ' S'  was talking to me about this phenomenon called the Midnight Blah! (Now don't Google search, you may land in a thatch of no hay.)  It is what happens to you sometime late after midnight, after you have played several games of Angry Birds, read the funnies and the news in many a e-papers, glanced through a few blogs, of course stalked each of those hot faces on Facebook, scanned your instant messenger and done everything possible to keep yourself occupied in the marked absence of real world. Today, one of many such nights, writer that I claim to be, I am venting my angst against boredom by writing about it. Please forgive me. To this you would be happy to hear, the friends i was praising yesterday, one of them said I should write anonymously because I am not fit to live and write simultaneously in this world. Like, I never knew that! There is something tragic about boredom. I mean, there ...

           I have to claim I have amazing friends. You may be hearing this quite often from me (oh wait! you don't! I don't write quite often), but yes! I am surrounded by all the amazing people. Apart from bearing with me when I am PMS'ing to a plethora of other stuff they do for me and ask nothing in return, today I mention them because they are such sweet cushions. Whatever I write, whenever I write I feed it to them and pat comes the reply "Its awesome"! So everything I rant comes out awesome to them. :) SO now you know, the reasons for my tantrums! I am unconditionally pampered. Last week was a girls week. No work. No phone calls. No role-playing. And mid-week I made a short touch and go trip to the maximum city because we had nothing to do. Oh yes! there are days like that. And off course, it was a train ride. Six a.m, ladies coach, window seat (Oh God! why did I even think travelling without reservation was a good idea?), I was reading   "...