Sunday, November 24, 2013

"Nostalgia is denial"

When I was in the first standard I got introduced to a girl, who bore the same second name as me. Only it was her original name. Naturally we were thrilled and became best friends. I'd hang out in her house all the time after school (as she had a room to herself). And during summer holidays, besides traveling to Mumbai, I'd spend all my time at her place. We'd read books together, separately; play games; eat; watch TV... you get the picture. This went on for two more years. We'd never imagined the presence of complete strangers would threaten our friendship so much. Actually, I never imagined it. But it did happen.

She remained in the same section while I got transferred to a section I came to loathe. No amount of Enid Blytons could soothe me. I turned to her for help, only she was not available. Or every time I'd go to her class, she always welcomed me with a stranger, whose eyes reproached me. But I didn't mind. After all I was spending time with my best friend. So was she.

As days passed by, we grew apart and they grew close. So much so that people had begun to notice. We were nicknamed "twins"; conjoined, not fraternal. And since she was the only person I hung out with, everyone else had their own friends. I was left alone. It never did cross my mind that “being alone” was a natural state. But at that age, everyone has friends and shows them off. Eat lunch together, whisper secrets in each other’s ear, laugh out till your sides ached and of course, hate the same people — all together. I lost what I had.

See I'm the sort who can be alone in a crowd. But to actually have no one to share that with, that struck me quite late. My visits to her class became noticeably desperate, despite her insisting that she was busy. She wasn't. The stranger, now her best friend, told me off. Told me to back away and leave her friend alone. I was causing inconvenience, apparently. But I still didn't believe it.

The day I did? The stranger had told me firmly that my best friend simply wasn't my best friend anymore. I wasn't welcome; I had to leave. I tried talking to my best friend, but funnily enough she said she didn't know me.

My best friend left the city for another country eventually - something I heard from other people. "She didn't tell you," they gasped. "She must've been busy, I'm sure she'll write to me," I insisted. But she didn't have my address. She wrote to the stranger regularly, who made it a point to wave the letter in front of my eyes. All I could manage was "I have her letters at home, they're personal," coupled with a feeble smile. But I knew I couldn't get it back. I think she went to Dubai. I don't know. The stranger continued in the same school till 12th standard.

For a long time I blamed myself. For not being pushy enough, but I reminded myself that force was never the answer. So I shifted the blame to the stranger. Of course, she must've tainted her mind. What else could it be? I've lost a couple of friends between then and now, nothing has affected me as much as this incident. My parents still remember us as a pair of cheery girls who would grow up to be the thickest of friends; a case of death do us part. In retrospect, I think my parents were innocent. To believe that two people can go through all their childhood, teenage years and adult life without changing.

In the midst of all that, I grew up. Told myself steadfastly and repeatedly that she doesn’t exist and even if she did, she’d never come back. But there are moments when I fish out my dusty diaries and flip through long-lost-once-familiar pages, filled with scribbles and artwork, to see if I can find her number. I’m sure it’s hidden between all that chaos, I’m sure I haven’t noticed it.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Why you need to go to Ambattur by a share auto before you get married

(Roughly inspired by Please read this link before proceeding with this post.)

As much as I want to travel, I haven't been able to. So worldly experiences are replaced with my cityly experiences, please excuse. I will however focus on Chennai (Madras) for now.

So getting back to the topic. I know you're getting married, there's no need to hide that. I know that in all probability I will not be invited (going by the number of classmates who chose not to, it's a no brainer). I'm basing my theory on the number of "makeup pages" and "photography pages" you have liked and all the new friends you have added via your partner-to-be, which are clogging up my feed as I write. 

Forget treks or scuba diving together or even the task, which is doing the rounds on Twitter, of asking the to-be-significant other to work on a slow broadband connection. An auto ride to Ambattur, nay, a share auto ride to Ambattur is a wonderfully efficient way to check if your partner is worth marrying. Take that ride in May for a really challenging task.

1. Is your partner capable of travelling by public transport? Because it requires skill and only seasoned public transport users can master it. It requires discipline, to stay in the same autorickshaw even if a sweaty, hairy person shoves their elbows on your face. He/she has to stay put, there's no looking back. (There better not be.)

2. Does your partner complain? A share auto ride is not easy. Imagine 14 people packed in a vehicle that should only accommodate 8 people (excluding the driver). Is your partner complaining from the word go? If he/she finds fault with the difficulty of Chennai roads, the other passengers in the auto to the torn seats that are missing the spongy cushions but instead have cold metal rods, which is the only cool comfort you'll ever get in May in Chennai, then I'm sorry to inform you that life with them is going to be similar.

3. Does your partner cooperate and adjust if there is no space to breathe, let alone sit in the auto? 9 out of 10 times you would've had a co-passenger almost sitting on your lap. If your partner cooperates, then they have a kind heart. (Bless them.) Bonus points if they offer their lap as sitting space.

4. Does your partner make the best of situations? On a share auto ride sometimes things go out of control. Someone will feel thirsty and will drink water, which is when the driver will decide to go over potholes and the water may spill on the person sitting opposite (hint: your partner). What does your partner do in such situations? Reach out and slap? Yell and complain? Or remain cool and composed? Your ideal partner is the person who chooses option C. C for cool and composed (see what I did there). If they manage to laugh it off, you have a winner.

5. Does your partner make small chat with the other people in the share auto? Are they "alone" even when surrounded by people? We all value our alone time but mingling with passengers in the share auto is important. It represents the people who walk into our lives, the ones who will be part of our social world. If they're only showing you their Facebook updates and taking selfies to Instagram it later when they are outdoors, they will be a pain indoors (ugh, not that way you sicko).

6. Are they considerate? Imagine a situation wherein someone throws a chocolate wrapper on the auto floor. Does your partner pick it up, keep in their bag to throw it in a dustbin later? Do they talk sweetly to the driver? If they see someone feeling low, do they offer kind words of comfort and solace? If you check all the boxes, congratulations! You have found yourself a thoughtful partner. 

7. Can your partner restrain himself/herself? A share auto ride is indeed a life changing experience, especially during May. When one is dehydrated and almost everything near seems like pools of water and one doesn't reach out thinking they're bottles of water, it shows that the person is patient, kind and mature. Qualities one needs in a stable marriage.
I hope these points have been useful in selecting a suitable partner. Forget trek dates, share auto dates are the in thing now. If it's the former, you have to ask prior permission from your boss, mother, father, pet etc to take a break. Then your dates have to match and these days jadagams are easier to match. After dates come the amount of money required to spend for these treks and the preparation involved is another task by itself. 

A share auto ride, fortunately, costs you nothing, doesn't require a week and maybe only very little preparation (it's all in the mind, you see).

Make share auto dates popular among the youth. (Actually, I have seen numerous couples spending time with each other in a share auto.) They also help single people find their potential others*. 

So go on take that ride for it may change your life.

* Conditions apply

Thursday, October 17, 2013

When in doubt, make good art

Slightly tweaking Neil Gaiman's words on good art.

Made these. I'll call them mediocre art, how's that instead?

- On the cover of my reporter's notebook (1 & 3)
- First page of the book (2)

Wednesday, October 9, 2013


Crushes make you feel excited, all tingly inside. Whereas love makes you feel miserable, like you're falling into a bottomless pit. But only because you know someone is there to catch you.


You know when you over think things, they don't happen. For example, there's this one thing you've really wished for in your life. Really wished it would happen, so much that you lie down at night with the thoughts consuming you. But it doesn't. At the same time a second thing begins, slowly but steadily. And you are unaware of it, innocently thinking and dreaming about the first thing. But slowly you put together the pieces of the second thing and it seems to be more than just a mere coincidence. Soon the second thing takes over your life and you find that you are distracted, miserable and lonely. Sitting alone, listening to music and rolling your eyes at the ceiling has become a way of life. Now you want the second thing to happen because it looks perfect. On paper, in reality. The universe has other plans though. It slowly tries to make the first thing happen. Or at least that's what it looks like. But what if the first thing was never meant to be? And what if the universe is trying to lure you away from the second thing, which could be IT, by making the first thing look real. Only it isn't. It doesn't feel real.

What's meant to be, what isn't? What's real and what isn't? What's the problem really?

It's just you over thinking it.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Sunday, July 28, 2013

14 reasons why you must read Vikram Seth

After being part of a conversation where the other person did not know who Vikram Seth was, I had decided it was time to put up a spectacular post on the man. Of course, reason one is reason enough to read him but just in case you need much persuasion or are difficult to convince, I list down my reasons. You are free to add some more:

1. He looks like this.
2. If you went to school in Chennai (or India perhaps) and studied CBSE, odds are your textbook would've had a poem by him and you wouldn't have been intimidated by it. (The Frog and the Nightingale, The Hare and the Tortoise)
3. He studied at Oxford. OK, I'm not being biased about quality education or the fact that people who haven't received an Oxford education suck at writing. Seth does justice to it.
4. If you're not a poem person (I know I'm not) don't worry. Seth has been kind enough to write novels for us.
5. A Suitable Boy - This should convince you to take up his work. I know it's a cumbersome read, 1400 pages, but it doesn't feel that way. So what if it's a big book and you don't have enough patience? Take time out to read this masterpiece and you'll know why.
6. He does not *try* as hard as other Indian writers to introduce a sense of Indianness to his book. It flows naturally.
7. Subjects like partition are boring I know. Imagine having to go through it in school every year! What's that? You know too. Good, I'm glad we're on the same page. Now A Suitable Boy deals with partition in a manner you can actually read without dozing off.
8. Awards and prizes
9. He has written a book for children as well. It's quite difficult, actually and he's done a wonderful job.
10. He takes his time to write books. (See, now we can all procrastinate without guilt!)
11. Not much of a lit person are we? Music? I bring to you An Equal Music.
12. Apparently this. 'In 1981 he hitchhiked 4,000 miles across China and produced the charming, clear-eyed travelogue "From Heaven Lake."' Who doesn't love a traveller?
13. Guess who's NOT a fan of Ulysses? YES!
14. (So that I don't end with an unlucky number) There's something about his writing that makes you all warm and fuzzy inside. Like a bear hug from your mother, or a pot of hot cocoa consumed on a cold day, that sense of achievement when you ran a whole kilometre, laughed at something till you cried. I could go on but I'm sure you get the point.


Saturday, July 6, 2013

Running away

From anything sane

anything that makes sense

anything that doesn't make sense

anything that involves more than an hour of my time

From questions that require answers

from statements that take a stand

from words that try to choke

and sentence that intimidate

From people

and from me

Friday, June 28, 2013

Not letting this go

I'm writing this while I sit in my rain soaked clothes. Primarily because I'm *that* pissed and I don't want to let go of this anger. What happened is as follows:

It was just starting to rain or rather drizzle when I left work. As a person who dislikes getting wet (in the rain), I took the chance of riding back home. Halfway through (somewhere around Chintadripet) the rains stopped. Once I reached Nungambakkam, it started pouring heavily. Here I have to mention that I didn't take my helmet to work today nor did I carry a raincoat/jacket but I did have the sense to wear old rubber chappals to work.

So getting back to where I was, I'm trying to see through my rain-stained glasses to ride carefully on the road when I hear someone speak incessantly. Trying to concentrate on the road I ignore the voice that seemed to be getting louder and closer. Curious, I turn to my right to see a fellow commuter speak something. Ignoring him to be yet another talker on his bluetooth I inch forward. But no. The guy comes closer and mouths something that goes along the lines of me being wet and extremely sexy and if I'm interested in him. For a minute I'm left wondering what just happened. But, I quickly regain sense of what he just said and I speed up to catch him and yell in the choicest of Tamil cuss words. I must've done enough damage to his family and to him when he turns back, smirks and speeds away. This pissed me off to no end so I rode like a mad person (in hindsight it might seem like a stupid thing to do with the slippery roads and all) and caught up with him again and swore like a fisher woman. Of course, he with his powerful bike overtakes me and leaves.

Now this isn't a one-off incident. Three days back (when it wasn't raining) I'm riding back home again when a guy stealthily follows me and yells "nice black bra!" and overtakes. Though I'm not quite flattered with his compliment, I still catch up to have a conversation and yell "Fuck off, suck my dick" (a la Tina Fey) simply because I was too enraged to think of anything else. Other words did however enter my mind, seconds later. Also, this incident happened again in Nungambakkam.

My point: Why is it that you guys cannot keep it in your pants? Why can't you focus on the road and not on a girl? I know my bra is showing and I know that it is indeed stylish, but if you intended it to be a compliment then let it sound that way. Not like you're sexually harassing me (verbally). And what am I supposed to do if my clothes get wet or if my bra is showing? Do I concentrate on the road or on my appearance (that I'm hardly bothered about unless I'm on a date or attending a function or just never)? Or do you want me to borrow Harry Potter's cloak of Invisibility and wear it ALL THE TIME? If that's the case then please ask Harry and explain the situation because I think he'd be kind enough to oblige.

We also look. At cute guys, at hot guys. But we control it, don't we? Do we go behind them and make them feel violated? We have desires too. If we can control it, so can you. Practise it. Any stare that makes me uncomfortable should be accounted for by you, you creep.

Guys (the creepy kind), if you want to wank off I suggest you take a look at porn or find a girl who'd be willing. Not me. Not women who want to be left alone. But if you do try funny business with me, be willing to endure taunts and cuss words that'll be thrown your way because I'm not one to ride the other way when you yell "variya?" to me. No sir. I'm going to follow and catch up with you, take you to the police if necessary and make sure you wish you'd never spoken to me like that. Because I've done this before and I'm not afraid.

Be warned.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Love actually

It was these three tumultuous days leading up to the greatest event of her life she would never forget. Or the months before that. Rukmini would have such dreams that disturbed her very existence. She looked outside the window and at the moon for comfort. But as she searched the dark skies she couldn't find it. Realising that it was Amavaasai (new moon) she turned back. Bathed in darkness, the room would offer her solace for now. As tears rolled down her face, Rukmini looked back into those five months that changed her life.

Five months of pure ecstasy.

It was in Shekar anna and Gowri manni's wedding that she met him. Armed with a dazzling smile and a ready answer to everyone's question, he captured her heart the moment she set her eyes on him. Wearing a peacock blue kurta that highlighted his eyes, only helped the cause. 'Such gorgeous dimples,' she thought.

"Sorry, did you talk to me?" he asked.

Not realising she had actually thought aloud, she cringed. "Uh no I was umm.." Silence.

He flashed his brilliant smile again. She gazed into his eyes and smiled sheepishly.

"Would you like to have some filter coffee with me? It's the best I can offer now!"

"Not if we team it up with some pongal and vadai," she said, finally finding her voice that surprised herself.

Laughing aloud he lead her to the dining area. Talking with small mouthfuls of food, she kept glancing at him. Catching her in the act, he smiled dashingly.

"Why do you keep looking at me from the corner of your eye?" he queried smilingly.

"Um, what are you talking about, I'm just concentrating on my food." she defended.

He bared his teeth and smiled knowingly at her. She was taken by him and how! Quickly they finished their meal in silence. Slowly sipping coffee, he said.

"How would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Choking on her hot coffee Rukmini replied, "What? I don't even know your name, let alone going out with you!" She knew in her heart though, all she wanted to say was just an emphatic yes. But it seemed her mind had taken a path of its own.

Grinning he replied, "My name is Govind. And before I forget what's yours?" He asked with such an ease, he was certainly not stumbling for words.

"Rukmini" she replied abashed.

"Rukmini," he repeated. "Has a nice ring to it, one of my favourite names. So you never answered my question properly, come on now."

"Er I would...." she broke off as she heard a voice through the crowd calling out her name.

"Rukki, enga di irukka?" It was her mother who had been frantically searching for her.

"Amma, inga vaa!" she called out, eyes seeking out to her. Her mother came up to her and said, "Shekar anna unna thedara, po poi congratulate pannu. Apdiye rendu vaartha pesitu vaa," her mum urged.

Before she could greet Govind, he remarked, "Hello aunty, I would like to marry your daughter. My appa had shown me Rukki's photo and I'm very taken by her and I'm guessing she by me."

Rukmini's mother was flabbergasted to say the least. The nerve this boy had, she thought. "Erm Govind, what does your appa say? And amma? Do they think my Rukki is a good match for you?" she ventured.

Govind merely eyeballed her; his future mother-in-law who would come to be quite a handful. "Sigh, yes aunty they love her to bits, I mean the usual amount. Plus she can cook," he added, knowing that would please her. He was right, she flashed a toothy grin. Govind, meanwhile, was watching a struggling Rukki congratulate Shekar and at the same time giving him coy looks.

Before Govind and Rukki could look back, five months had passed by. Five months of pure marital bliss. And Bangalore during the monsoon for honeymoon. What more could she ask for, really? Walking hand in hand down the road, reliving those moments that flashed by her eyes. And just like that, Govind. She was back in the dark.


"Why did you finish Govind's character in the book? I thought you loved him," questioned Jessie. "Unfinished business, eh?"

Gowri just stared back at her friend. "If I don't get him, no one does. At least in my story she doesn't," she said and snapped her book shut. Somewhere else Rukmini was hiccuping.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Lessons from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani

So the sibling and I saw YJHD in the theatre and it set me thinking and I have put together 11 points on what I learned from that movie.

1. Take off your glasses 

2. Wear skimpy clothes 
3. Have loads of money 
4. Marry an engineer boy
5. Keep drinking 
6. Travel the world 
7. Don't let the bridesmaid be hotter than you 
8. Gamble enough and you'll own a bar 
9. Get married at Udaipur (look up number 3) 
10. And go for a trek to Manali, and beginning where it started all 
11. Wear glasses
12. (added by Subhadra) make friends with people that are likely to get married in Udaipur.

Of course, I also came home to find tears streaming because Ranbir (in the movie) gets to go abroad and do journalism and ends up travelling (something which I've been trying to, but hasn't worked) and then I look at Facebook. People who don't know what MOMA stands for, or haven't heard about Halloween suddenly put up pictures of them in ridiculous costumes or "chilling" in New York. Sigh.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Gibbericks* - I

The people you never thought you'd meet
are actually waiting 'round the corner
for a shout and a greet
Some with heart full of scorn
some with regret; some with pain
and others with thorns
But the ones that really matter
are the people who don't have to chatter
because all they have to do is look into your eyes
with a smile


In a small town lived a hothead,
making a living by baking sweetbread
He came 'cross a poisonous chili spread
couldn't resist and smeared some on his forehead,
two days later on the river bed,
he was mysteriously found to be dead.


*- Gibbericks are gibberish+limericks

Monday, April 1, 2013

A checked the time on her monitor. It was almost 2 am. She clicked on the mouse impatiently and drew little squares on the wallpaper, as if expecting something to happen.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She shook herself up. He was here, and it was about time too, she thought. 

“Hey, what’s up,” Z typed. “It’s my mother’s birthday, so we all stayed up to wish her.”

A steadied herself, she was falling asleep. ‘I need coffee and fast,” she muttered, but she knew she couldn’t risk waking her mother up. If her mother knew or worse if her father knew, she’d be asked to go to sleep at 10 pm, every day that too.

“Oh, wish her a happy birthday from me too, not that she knows me or anything,” A typed. “Btw, my mother’s birthday also falls on this month, just a few more weeks!”

“That’s nice,” Z said.

This conversation isn’t going anywhere, she thought. Yeah, maybe if you guys met then it’d go somewhere, said the little voice in her head. How do I ask him out without actually asking him out, she wondered. 

“You have to give me a treat, you know. For that thing you won, remember?” A typed, happily. Not a bad line, she thought.

“You must be kidding,” he said. “Besides we aren’t even in the same city, how is that possible? Of course, I’m coming down for something, maybe we could meet. How does that sound.” Z rambled on chat.

Wow, that’s the biggest paragraph he has typed out so far, she wondered aloud. 

“So when are you coming here?” A tried to sound casual. 

“Next week. So have you gone to this idli-dosa-vada shop, it’s amazing!” Z said. “It’s cheap, good food and down-to-earth.”

“By down-to-earth you mean noisy, right?” A nonchalantly flirted. She didn’t want him to know she was flirting with him; of course, there were possibilities that he hadn’t realized as well. Anyway, no harm in trying, she mused. 

“No, I haven’t been there. I have heard of it, but haven’t been there.” A typed. “Why can’t we go to that new place that serves amazing Greek food. I heard good reviews and I’m…” she was typing but she saw that he had typed something already.

“I cannot believe you haven’t gone there! Then it’s settled, we MUST go there.” Z decided. 

“Ok I’ll settle for that,” agreed A. At last, a place where we can meet finally, in person, she thought. 

A was also a little nervous at this point. This could be my first date, she wondered. “Or not,” she said.

“Okay I have work tomorrow, so good night,” Z typed.

“Bye, and good night,” she said.

Two years later, as A looked at Z’s display picture on Facebook; she wondered what happened to her so-called first date. It just never happened, it was never meant to happen, she concluded. She smiled and closed the page. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

It was her phone vibrating. D had texted her asking if they could meet.

Life's just too weird, she thought. 

“I land in the same city that Z is in, but I don’t talk to him anymore. No connections whatsoever; it’s like we never knew each other,” she exclaimed. “Instead, I’m meeting a new guy who I had never known.”

She looked at her phone. D was different. A fresh start, a new guy. Maybe this time it’ll be different, she thought. 

Maybe. But a little voice in her head thought differently. 

She shut her laptop, turned down the lights and went to bed.

“It will be different,” A muttered. “Good or bad, it’ll be different for sure.”

Monday, February 25, 2013

List, list, list!

So currently ODing on Explore. Such a wonderful website, especially if you adore literature. Well don't worry if you're quite the opposite, you'll come to love literature once you go through this site. In this post, I'm going to pick out my favourite lists on writing and well, life. (Will keep updating as and when I come across good ones. You can also send me your picks.)

Moving on, this is an oldie but a goodie! Orwell always has the right thing to say on writing. So if you're a writer go through this.

Yet another writer I love is F Scott Fitzgerald (author of The Great Gatsby etc., alternatively you can also check out Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris). He wrote a letter to his daughter on things that she needn't worry about. Last night this boosted my confidence and made me feel much better.

Here's one more list on how to write by ad legend David Ogilvy of Ogilvy & Mather.

Henry Miller's 11 commandments

Sunday, February 24, 2013

On love

Inviting comments/thoughts/definitions on what you think/feel/know is love.

To keep things interesting, compile it within 140 characters. I'll put it in a post.

Do spread the word, I'd like to know what you all have to say.



Till date the biggest I've received is: too diplomatic

Thursday, February 21, 2013


Happens when you least expect it,
happens when you're at your strongest
the tears that follow determine
what happens next.


Not able to come up with more stanzas. If you do, please leave them as comments!

Readling list

Have to finish these, just have to (By March at least)

1. The Rozabal Line - Ashwin Sanghi
2. Penguin's selection of Mahabharatha short stories
3. Sita's Ascent - Vayu Naidu
4. The Naming of the Dead - Ian Rankin
5. A Road Less Travelled - Pradeep Chakravarthy
6. The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby - Charles Dickens

Why not

What is wrong about having a botched CV?
Or leaving your job in the first few months to think about what you *really* want?
What is SO wrong about being confused?

Maybe I haven't figured it all, maybe I'm being lazy. Maybe I like my incomplete CV.

Sometimes it doesn't really matter does it? You have all these ambitions and goals you set out to achieve, start building a tower of cards but a gust of wind knocks it down. You start again only to realise that the wind persists and knocks it down, again. Starting from the bottom of the pyramid is the toughest but at least you're in the game. Also, I don't get hazaar people giving gyaan like "oh but think about your CV, it's going to look bad," or "work for 6 months, it'll be effective on your CV," "just grit and plough on." While all of this does makes sense, why haven't I got one that goes, "just be happy in what you're doing?" But I've also learnt one thing on the side. Why wait to hear something like this? It's ok to be confused, to not know what you want (but not for long). Whatever happens today (and everyday) happens for a reason, good or bad. Whatever happens, I will move on. Start afresh.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013


I've never thought of myself as a person who inspires others, I mean the thought of it is just plain funny! But two wonderful people have described me as motivating and inspiring them to get off their ass and blog. Er.. well maybe just sit on their ass and blog/write. But what this has done (apart from bringing a single tear in my eye) has in turn motivated me to write more and often. As non-readers of this blog, I know I'm nothing but frequent in updating the blog. However, such wonderful compliments should not be ignored. Which is why I shall write more posts. MOAR.

Monday, February 18, 2013


Dear Space-above-my-head,

All I ever want is to be happy. To go through everyday with a big smile on my face, to love my job like it's the best thing that ever happened. No, I don't want to change the world and such but I'd love to travel the world. I finally understand that living in the moment is not something to be really proud of and at the same time not something to be ashamed of, but that planning for a life ahead can do wonders. Now, I'm not depressed but I'm sad, angry, frustrated and irritated with myself that I didn't plan ahead. By living so much in the moment that I forgot to plan for the future; not a plan for when I'm 50 and I'll live on my retirement fund (yeah right), but what-I'd-like-to-be-doing-when-I'm-25-above. At least to get out of my parents' hair. And to top it all, Google promptly informs me that I'm going through a quarter life crisis.

Quarter life crisis: Experienced in one’s twenties, involving anxiety/fear/confusion over the direction and quality of one’s life.

So that. I tried putting together a list of what I want to do, but I couldn't get past two points and I got distracted, as always. I've found it so tough to concentrate on most tasks, unless it involves reading or cooking. Even this post started at 9.30 pm, it's 11.34 pm and I'm still working on it. (Back to rant, back to rant.)

It should be about me right? MY future, MY life, MY money etc. But it's not. My meagre salary is not going to help fill all the loans but it is something. And the experience that I need to shift to a job that I've always wanted and that will happen only if I stick to one thing. And whether I like it or not (now, I mean) I will get married. Let's face it, there's no escaping that. So it'd really suck if I was still confused career-wise and that might bring out all the imbalances.

But most of all, I should be happy, right? Happiness counts. And yes it's like a butterfly that rests on your shoulder when you're not chasing after it, but shouldn't you really chase after what you want?

I'm just drowning in self-doubt really. Someone just put me out of my misery and tell me what to do. Or don't. This is one decision I have to make for myself.



Sunday, February 17, 2013

Reality check

Never thought it'd come to this; where I'd have to do justice to the title of my blog. But I guess it's for the best right? I mean, I'm always this confused, confused girl. I have second thoughts about most decisions (only because a better one always comes along!). And I still haven't realised what I want, I'm sure I'm always going to be searching for something. But I demand instant happiness, especially from a career that I will love and cherish and till death do us part. And so two weeks ago when my health scared me, into a cave, and made me realise that work isn't everything, I'm now sitting back and pondering on the reality check that dear life has to offer me.

1. Life's too short (yeah yeah done before, I know)
2. Know what you want. At least a vague idea just to answer people's questions.
3. Learn to say NO. (This one's a toughie)
4. Laugh, a lot. Love, a lot. Forget, all the time.
5. Eat, no matter what happens. And protect your lunch from nasty-always-hungry-colleagues.
6. Read before you go to sleep. Just about anything.
7. Chill (I don't know how else to word this)

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

How a one-rupee coin saved the day

Disclaimer: Extremely silly post

Today is supposed to be an awesome day. You know why? Because on my way to work I sighted, not one, but three good looking guys! In addition, I brought two lunches to work, actually a pre-snack lunch of sandwichespeanut butter and honey.

The great day continued with a colleague bringing thenkuzhal to work and another colleague opening a box of keerai kootu! At 7 ish, we were hungry after consuming all the food we had brought. So with a 10 rupees note in hand I proceeded to the boring canteen and bought three kadalai mittais and four butter biscuits. I later realised that I didn't have money to buy my daily quota of 5 rupees tea/coffee.

Two minutes later, my colleagues come up to me and ask if I can buy them biscuits and Cadbury Shots and give me a grand total of 30+20 rupees. Wanting to be on the safer side, I took along a 1 rupee coin and bought a packet of biscuits, some shots and a cup of coffee. So where does the one rupee coin feature, you ask? Well if I hadn't taken that one rupee coin along, I wouldn't have been able to buy 7 shots (each shot is 3 rupees and considering colleague gave 20 rupees) and my cup of coffee.

Well, I did put up a disclaimer didn't I?

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Anti-story story

Saaminathan Street was a drowsy street. People were either sleeping or watching TV; they would seldom venture out of their comfort zone. Like every other area, this street also faced a two hour power cut, and on the morning of January 1 when the residents opened their newspaper they found out that the power cuts would get extended by two more hours.

Every house on the street panicked. Maami A called out to her fellow serial watchers and ranted till no end. Unemployed boy C called up his friend (waiting for call letter from Company X) and cried, no more Jack Black movies machan; girl-next-door Q marched up to busy bee M and complained that her quota of re watching Grey's Anatomy would stop. Basically Saaminathan Street was ruffled up. Also the street was named that way because the painter had misspelt Swaminathan.

Getting back to the story, residents of Saaminathan Street were waiting for 12 am. And it did come. but wonders of wonders there was no power cut. Maamis, boys and girls-next-door rejoiced. Maamas were carefully scrutinizing the situation. And then they realised, the state cable company had its premises on their street.

"Naalai thodarum" said the text on the screen, maami A switched off the TV and went to sleep.
Usually a story has a definite subject and the readers should see it going "somewhere". However, this story is the exact opposite. I'm just writing to get laziness out of my system. Feel free to criticize.