Serendipity of Nonsense

I haven't written in a long time. Not on the blog nor on the paper towels. My learnt lessons are so interspersed and polarised that I can't find a way to put them down in writing; in an earnest manner. So I am going to rant about what I experienced, with a little hope that it provides a little insight to what the country taught me so far. It is not a conventional message. Eight months ago as I was getting prepared to engage in a few month-long development project in India, I was constantly getting startling reactions from concerned faces; not because of the difficulties that would naturally arise from being in the project, but because I was going to travel and city hop every week and spend my time in regions I have never set foot in. November was marked with red ink, I was supposed to be in Bihar for a fortnight. Remember that 'Akeli ladki..' dialogue courtesy Jab We Met; yes, that one! It was always implied, never told on face. I was told I wouldn't survi...

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   "...

A hiatus of almost 4 months and I finally had to give in to publish this post! Better, call it clicking the "publish' button at a gun-point. At this moment, I have 153 posts in the draft section. Thank heavens for Blogger to include such stuff. And why I decided to publish this is not-so-a-random reason. A was bored. He wanted to read something from my blog. So I got extremely annoying calls and texts from him until I decided to give in and publish it. Also, H for being so sweet she is told me I should be writing so as to let off my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for calling up random people at random times and forcing them to talk to me. Add to that, she mentioned she needed a reason to get online and read something, now that she got a LIFE after deactivating her Facebook account. Few urges and I am good to go. Oh yes! I am that gullible. Say yay!! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------...

This morning I was in Delhi, now I am not. Tomorrow I won't be waking up to a radio alarm, an impromptu conversation with the colleague(who goes to work at 8! and calls me) and crying out for the morning coffee with my eyes still shut!    Wrapping up four months of work and life in a few boxes has been tough. And I am not going to mention how many boxes. Coming back to the prohibited state marks an end to my stint at Fashion Journalism. Rise for Two minutes of silence. Okay! It is time for something new again! Do i sound bored? Yes! Well, I have no answer to the "Whats next" question. My mom tried and then called quits. So bear with me. To tell you, I am a round the clock cribber. I cribbed of work. I whined of eleven hour schedules. I cried when had to go to work with a hangover. There was a moment when I cribbed on having to travel to Mumbai every week. I cried of not having enough time on hand. Not being able to meet my friends. Not being able t...