Dear Diary, Featured Posts, List Posts, Uncategorized

50 Things I Don’t Care About

 

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  1. What my stars have to say about my love life.
  2. How you keep your clothes neat and tidy and I do not.
  3. Game of Thrones.
  4. If or not you think I am rude just because I didn’t give you a nod at the wedding.
  5. Kejriwal v/s Modi Debate.
  6. Coke Studio.
  7. The Eye Liner.
  8. Your love and cravings for beer.You are so cool and happening.
  9. How Batman is the greatest Superhero .
  10. The shower with your boyfriend. Eh, really? 
  11. Nail-Art.
  12. Yo Yo Honey Singh. (Yeah but that phenomenon is dead already)
  13. The Pout.
  14. The IIT Tag.(Sour Grapes)
  15. How much of a romantic you are all because you “read” Erotica.
  16. If I am a dog person or a cat person.
  17. The Agony Aunt-sy question answers on Quora. Here. And some more.
  18. How your husband, your family, your children, the sky ,the earth , the sun and the moon ..failed you.
  19. Paulo Coelho. And how the Alchemist changed your life.
  20. Your Instagram feed telling  for the umpteenth time that you are in a relationship.Yawn.
  21. The Internet Lingo.
  22. Football.
  23. Your “religion” status for the week. Agnostic. Gnostic. Atheist. Pantheist. Pagan. Nauseating.
  24. Stand up Comedy.
  25. Why you can’t talk to women because you studied in an all boys’ school .and NDA. and IMA.
  26. Crop tops.
  27. Arnab Goswami.
  28. How classy, the colour black ,is.
  29. Your reason for breaking up. Looking for nirvana ,you said?
  30. Roadies.
  31. WhatsApp. Viber. SnapChat. Hike. Line. WeChat.
  32. Coffee Mugs.
  33. Your amateur photography.
  34. Organic Chemistry.
  35. Your opinion on women.
  36. Your “no-filter” look.
  37. Tinder.
  38. Your yoga and meditation routine.
  39. Maggi.
  40. Your healthy breakfast of Pakodas fried in olive oil.
  41. Anything Subramaniam Swamy has to say.
  42. Student Politics.
  43. Momos.
  44. Your oh-not-so-hidden jibes at your ex in your whatsapp status.
  45. Birthdays.
  46. Splitsvilla. 
  47. The reasons for your crush on EVERY OTHER GIRL you see.
  48. That Che Guevara t-shirt.
  49. The #Long Hashtag.  #iAmLameAndLazyToUseSpacebar
  50. The rule to blog regularly. OBVIOUSLY.

Inspiration for the list you ask?  This which led to this. Happy reading!

 

 

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Dear Diary, Featured Posts, List Posts

Wish List

There is a Chinese proverb which goes by- ” Be careful what you wish for” . I was reading a blog and suddenly got this idea as why should not I create my own wish list . New Year is coming soon. Its always good to know what you want to do ,otherwise life will keep giving you surprises of its own(which is actually fun for the time being). But alas in the long run this strategy fails. When you are on the death bed this attitude leaves you with regrets.

This is the dilemma : ‘To Plan’ or ‘To Go with the Flow’. As always I’ll quote Buddha here” The Middle Path is always right. ” Whenever you choose the extreme of anything, its bound to take you in the wrong direction. Not Studying for 20 hours is bad, studying for 20 hours is even badder. To sit around and wait for things to happen is bad , to plan for every minute thing of life is badder. Toh bhola bachcha kare toh kya kare? Continue reading

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Dear Diary, Stories

In search of Him

I see him coming from the other end of the courtyard. Say it today! Say it! No I can’t . I run away. Hey! Stop . Where are you going? Voices disappear behind me but I keep running..never looking back…


As I struggle to get me, my bag, my purse onto the bus, I am pushed from behind by two very assertive women. I find a seat and by the time I load on my stuff, there is just enough room for me, and not much for anyone else. And then the bus fills up and I find myself crammed in with two children, an older sister and younger brother, sitting virtually on my lap. We leave on schedule as people settle into their seats. The two pushy women in front of me and their young daughter, who don’t seem to have a seat at all,  opt instead into standing as close as she could to me, shoulder to shoulder. The women keeps smiling and talking to me in a language I don’t understand, the girl keeps trying to get as close as possible and the bus keeps getting hotter under the noonday sun and it is all very interesting for about the first hour. Eventually, I am starting to feel suffocated, and wondering if the last hour of the trip is going to be an endurance test.

I flip through the book he once gave me. Can I see him again? Can I bear it? Do I want to see him? I close my eyes and tilt my head back as grief and longing lance through me. Of course I do. Torturous memories flash through my mind— his gentleness, his humor. I miss him. It’s been two months since our school ended and he being a boarder returned to  his city ,  two months of agony that have felt like an eternity.


The bus stand is bustling with people of all hues and colours . I take out the city map ( GPS is not for Real Explorers).  I have just one lead – he lives somewhere near a cinema hall- Devki Talkies. I feel like James Bond- Ray Bans on eyes which are constantly scrutinizing the streets ,map in one and weapon( in my case a pepper spray) in other hand- only I am on a rickshaw while he travels in swanky cars.

The cinema hall is amidst a market. But finally –  हम तो हम हैं- I locate his house and ring the bell. A lovely lady comes out. Plan A is ready.

“Yes?”

“Hello ma’am . I am from National Sample Survey Organisation. I have a few questions to ask about your family for the National Population Register.” She looks convinced.

” Its too hot.Can I come inside?” I ask with the most innocent face I could make.

“Hmm. My daal would be burning in the kitchen. I ‘ll send my son.” The arrow hit its aim.

He comes into the drawing room .

“What. How.Why?” If I say he looked shocked, it would have been the understatement of the year. I had never heard silence this loud. “You are mad as always”. He says finally gaining the stock of the situation.

” I have to rush before your mother discovers fake officials at home. Meet me at the Kalki Mandir at 4 pm. ”


Constructed in stone, the Kalki temple conformed to the typical style of the North Indian Temple Architecture.Although the access to the temple was through a ceremonial archway that opened at the street level, the temple itself sat atop a twenty foot high plinth. It was interesting to note that instead of steps leading up to the temple, there was a ramp in two easy gradients. Facing the temple in one corner was a canopied kiosk which contained a fine white marble stature of a horse. The connection was clear: when Kalki arrives, he will find his mount ready! That is why the ramps were perhaps there – to facilitate the horse to come down or climb easily.

But the temple itself was closed. In fact  it had been closed ever since it was built. Today, a caretaker priest appointed by the state government kept it clean and tidy by periodically opening it. Otherwise, the Kalki temple bore a deserted look. No devotees. No prayers. No temple bells. Clearly, Kalki’s time had not yet come! But who knows, in the timeless turning of the heavens and the earth, Kalki may not be very far away …

” What are you thinking?It would have been a long journey. Why didn’t you tell me? ”  I turn my head right and there stands Siddharth.  I look into his glowing eyes ,silent , words refusing to come out. I feel the familiar pull—I am drawn, Icarus to his sun. I have been burnt already, and yet here I am again.

A cool breeze hits my face making my curls dance to its tune. I tuck them behind my ear.

“Old habits” he says with a smile . ” Never change” I reply with a smile.

“How are you? You ran away on farewell! You are not even replying to my texts?” he asks, his voice soft.

” I couldn’t say goodbye properly. Just wanted to see you once before beginning my new life at college.” My voice is small, contrite.

“What?You travelled 85 kms for this! You know how dangerous it is , travelling alone? You could have been kidnapped, looted or god forbid what! You are not a child anymore Saumya!”

” I-DID-IT-FOR-YOU. For five freaking years it has been you who has stood by me. We have shared our lunch boxes, bunked classes in name of our fake debate rehearsals , played footsie in library, got locked up in the greenhouse together . We even caught cold eating the roadside kulfi together.”

“So?”  Why do you boys want full-detailed-logical explanations all the time?Some things are understood without saying , idiot.  Go watch some bollywood movies !

“I love you dammit! It isn’t easy letting go “I say  , my voice unexpectedly louder this time .The words keep echoing in the temple premises striking the marble tiles and reflecting back. I notice even the idol of Kalki eyeing ,accusing me of disturbing its sleep . Sorry God , its important.

No reaction from his side. Oh no 😦

He starts walking towards me, his face revealing nothing. He grabs my arm and abruptly pushes me against a pillar. “Then don’t” , he says grabbing my face between his hands, forcing me to look up into his ardent determined eyes.Suddenly the atmosphere between us changes, charging with an electric, exhilarating anticipation. We kiss. 

My inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba.  Whitney Houstan plays in the background

You, darling, I love you

Oh, I’ll always, I’ll always love you

Phew, destination reached.

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