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Le sigh

February 27, 2018

I stopped daydreaming. And it’s weird how I didn’t notice it until finishing “Collection of sand” by Italio Calvino. In the first story, he wrote about a woman who loved collecting sand from her travels around the world. Strange quirks that make a person –  like my constant need to daydream. It makes my internal identity. But these days my mind revolves around a few things: marrying Mr. Dimples, our future, my family, and ways to increase our income. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining about my present situation. But I miss daydreaming. I miss reading. And creating worlds at the tip of my pen. I miss a huge chunk of me that somehow got lost over the years. Sometimes I feel that awkward, quiet school girl who sat in her room reading books and writing stories was someone else.

With just a few months away from my 30th, is this how it’s supposed to be


At this point there is nothing left to do except to give up, walk away from the case, from this cemetery of landscapes reduced to a desert, this cemetery of deserts on which the wind no longer blows. And yet, the person who has had the persistence to continue this collection for years knew what she was doing, knew where she was trying to get to: perhaps this was her precise aim, to remove from herself the distorting, aggressive sensations, the confused wind of being, and to have at last for herself the sandy substance of all things, to touch the flinty structure of existence.


Rant post. Beware.

December 29, 2015


Seems like a sci-fi year. You would expect hovercrafts in the air, shuttles to other galaxies, and robots in every household.

But this is not a post about all that.

This is about me. A 27 year old unmarried girl living in India.   

I never thought the problems I generally see in movies would happen to a person like me.

My life has suddenly become a topic for people to discuss. I cannot believe the unnecessary pressure I am under just to get married. Relatives, complete strangers, and even a few from my own generation have been after me to get married. It’s weird how people are treating it like getting a driver’s license, “You should get it done this year itself!”

I have always been a very private person. I don’t interfere in someone’s private matters and no one has interfered in mine. Until now. Everything is just bewildering.

The comments I receive after explaining to them that I am simply not ready to get married are appalling. Someone said that I was being difficult. Someone else said I was being selfish. Another said I was being a burden to my family. I have stopped counting the number of times I have heard this particular one,

“Your father is old. Your mother is old. You are old.”  

(And hello! 27 is regarded as young adult in the book section.) I was even asked why was I working in Bangalore. Her reason being it was a waste of time because I would have to quit my job and move to wherever my husband would be. Sigh.

 The worst was when a boy, a few years older to me, told my mother if I wouldn’t get married soon, it would be very difficult to mold me later in life. WTF. (And people ask why we need feminism.)  

An aunt I met recently brought up the topic within the first ten minutes of me being in her house. She was shocked by the privilege I had that I could decide when I wanted to get married. I also mentioned that I was turning 28 next year and her reaction reminded me of the time when I asked my friend who the guy on the FIFA CD was (it was Messi).

I guess she thought she was being understanding to say, getting married was not like how it was before, you could fall in love and find someone by yourself.

But she pulled up two conditions. He would have to be a Christian and he would have to be a Malayalee.

How is that very different from before? I am surprised how a 70 year old woman still believes 2016 followed the same way of life as the 1950’s. But even so, I understand where she’s coming from. She has only seen a certain way of life over her 70 years and it’s mind boggling to see another way to lead a life.  

It’s stupid how people expect you to fall in love with someone from within the community in 2016. It’s stupid how people break the couple up when he/she don’t belong to the same religion, the same caste and speak the same language.

Falling in love and choosing to be someone’s partner is such a private and lovely thing. Why would people want to break up such a sacred bond between two souls? I find that unforgivable.

Deciding whether to get married or not is such basic human right to me. Deciding who you want to spend the rest of your life with is another basic human right to me. Why don’t people just get that?


** I know I am ranting. But it just had to be written.

It’s a cat night

September 23, 2015

I could hear their ‘meow.’ It is 12:45 am in Bangalore. I want to open the door and see who’s at the door. But I know I shouldn’t. I think it is the black kitten. Her cry is usually the scared and innocent one out of the lot. Unlike her mother who likes to sing a heart breaking meow when she wants something to eat. Or the white kitten who only seems to snarl, usually when her sister bites her tail.

There was one more in the beginning. A snow white kitten. But I haven’t seen her since the first week the pack of cats arrived at our house.

I wanted to call the black kitten ‘Harry Potter.’ Because her fur camouflaged with our black curtains and the only way you could make out she was hiding there was when her green eyes turned to us. Like gemstones. I would like to pick her up but so far, she moves like a terrified lightning bolt when we are near. I guess looking up to a 6’3 human would probably be kinda scary from down there.


Sleepy time

The white kitten always seems to be on a sugar rush. She likes to jump around, investigate things and likes to chew strings a lot. She likes to paw-five Mr. Dimples (the 6’3 human I mentioned) and she has made the top of our sofa her napping place.

I think I like the mother cat the most. She took weeks (or was it a month?) to warm up to us. Now, she allows me to pet her just for a few minutes. Sometimes she even sits in front of our house like a guard. It’s weird that we have never seen her play. She’s just never amused. All she’s interested to do is to drink milk and watch over her babies.

Three different personalities. These visiting cats.


I sat in front of the computer to read ‘A Wrinkle in Time’ but I guess that’s not going to happen tonight.

I had a perfect ‘You’ve Got Mail’ moment

February 26, 2015

A tiny yellow butterfly flew into my autoride.

The little fellow fluttered for a bit beside me and then flew out into Austin Town. I guess it had other plans. But I’m glad it stopped by to say hello.


Of cowardice and bravery

August 14, 2014

He asked me what I wanted to do in life. And of course, I had an answer. I knew it since I got my first diary 16 years ago and named her Dia. I knew my answer since the day I held an ink pen for the first time in sixth grade and saw those beautiful blue letters flowing on the white pages. I was spellbound. I was smitten with words.

But it takes an awful lot of courage to say what you want to do in life, especially to the ones who are in the business. Do I even have the right to want it? What if he laughs at me? What if he thinks I’m just being silly? What if he thinks there’s no chance in hell that I could be a writer and pretends to be okay with my reply?

So, I chicken out. I say that I have no idea what I want in life.

It stings to betray yourself like that. Repeatedly. You betray all those things you taught yourself growing up, just by not being brave enough to tell what you dream about. You betray all those books you read throughout the years and cringe every time you thought of your heroes, like Scarlett continuing to be headstrong and doing whatever she wanted to do despite not getting approval from her family. Or Howard Roark’s unbridled determination to build a career in architecture, even though he pissed off a lot of people and got expelled from college. I turn an ashamed head to them every time I say or do something they wouldn’t approve of.

It’s difficult when you alone keep pushing yourself to go after your dreams. It’s difficult to ignore and forget judgments. It’s difficult to stop doubting yourself.

I mean, my God, where do you find the bravery to say: “This is me.”

The legend cannot end

July 30, 2012

It was only few days back when I was grumbling about wanting to have something new in life. No, I’m not talking about a job or other ways of improving my life. I am talking about an obsession. You know the type that makes you wait so impatiently for the next episode, or the next book, or a new blog post. Once upon a time I followed Naruto. But Shipudden got me off it.  And then there was Death Note (huge fan). Then there was is the almighty Harry Potter. Man, I miss those years of waiting for the next instalment.

I wanted something new. Something I haven’t experienced yet. I need an obsession, you see. It makes my life exciting.

I am not the superhero type of woman. Though I did like Christopher Reeve as Superman revolving around Earth. But Nolan’s Batman definitely worked for me. The Dark Knight Rises was E.P.I.C.

During the first chase, when a policeman uttered, “Oh boy, you are in for a show tonight son” I gripped my seat tight.
When Batman finally appeared on his bike the audience clapped like the actual scene was happening in real life. I of course wanted to scream out of ecstasy. But the theatre is fussy about crazy stupid things. So I got back home and listened to this track and probably cracked my ear drum after the 50th replay. But that was not enough.

When I finished watching Batman Begins last night, it gave me shivers. I had to take a moment to realize I didn’t live in Gotham. His past, his story, Christian Bale’s resolute face, the attire, the character, the hunky Batmobile – breathe – I was in a trance that fantasy alone could create. I watched the second part today morning – the Dark Knight was hands down awesome. Joker, Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent are such strong complex characters.

But now it’s over and I really don’t know what to do. Maybe the animated series?

Everybody needs a little light

July 18, 2012

I don’t know why I’m writing this since this particular post has no topic or direction. I’m just listening to Nero (Archangel) and reading Pablo Neruda poems. Good combination. Like drinking hot coffee when the weather is freezing you till to your toes (a situation I am looking forward to in the immediate future … it feels like an oven in Kochi. Whatever happened to the monsoon this year?)

I am going to leave you with a quote I just discovered and fell in love with

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us

Instant-smile-on-your-face quote, right?  Alright I can’t resist. I have to put in one more of his works.

I have named you queen.
There are taller than you, taller.
There are purer than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.

When you go through the streets
No one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
At the carpet of red gold
That you tread as you pass,
The nonexistent carpet.

And when you appear
All the rivers sound
In my body, bells
Shake the sky,
And a hymn fills the world.

Only you and I,
Only you and I, my love,
Listen to me

– The Queen 

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