Saturday, July 07, 2012

Dead End.


I am not entirely sure what I am supposed to say, so I'm going to say hello again.


There. That's done.

More enthusiasm, maybe?


This is awkward.

I feel the need to fill up the silence.

Should I tell you a story, perhaps?

No, I don't think you'll listen that long.

Maybe I could interest you in an anecdote?

But I am not sure what you'd enjoy.

A joke. A joke is a good idea, isn't it?

What if I offend you though?

What can I say knowing you want to hear me say it?

Should I try hello again?

Or maybe...goodbye?

Sunday, June 10, 2012

The city of blinding lights

If home is where the heart is, the heart will always want to be in Bombay.

Regal, Mumbai - 1.25am
Photo Courtesy: Sneha Reddy

Thursday, May 31, 2012

My 98 days of Summer!

31st May, 2012.
The final day of the month that proved to be a roller coaster ride.

11th May, 2010 - New Jalpaiguri, West Bengal, India - 11.35 pm 

In the last 30 days, I've jumped onto a moving train, nearly fallen off the side of a mountain, trekked 3000 feet, been above the clouds, bathed in a railway station, seen how India travels, been stranded in a railway station for 6 hours in the middle of the night, wanted to cry because it was too cold, nearly cried because it was too hot, finally ended up crying for reasons that had nothing to do with the weather, let old friends go, made new friends, remained butt locked for 15 hours and been offered free tea by army men among many, many other things.

Tomorrow, a new adventure starts. 98 days of it, to be precise. I've decided that such a structured adventure needs a new blog (Click here, here or here). I intend to write all about it, mostly to keep a log of everything I do and for the amusement of the general public. Be kind with your comments :)

Good morning, Sunshine!

I hate mornings. They are the worst part of my day.

All through college, I've had a reputation of sleeping through my 7 am alarm despite having people two rooms away wake up, curse me, abuse me and get back to sleep. Many morning lectures have been missed and many hours have been spent at the end of every month wondering if my lack of attendance will finally get me kicked out of college. And yet, I've slept on and slept through many more cozy mornings.

On Saturday, I woke up to a phone call at 6 am. I do not know how this phenomenon happened, neither does anyone else who has heard of this occurrence. Most think it is mere hearsay and is not based on fact.  Nonetheless, sure as night follows day and day follows night and my hatred for mornings persist through rain and sunshine, I woke up at the crack of dawn to the sound of John Mayer calling out to me.

I was to meet a friend at 7.30 for breakfast. I know the appropriate thing to do is give up the friendship than get up to meet someone that early, but since I was already up, I figured what the hell. So I did all the mundane things that need to be done in the mornings and I lay back in bed, looking out of the window, waiting for my friend to call again.

It was the loveliest feeling. The light that streamed in through the windows increased as the minutes ticked on and my bed sheet felt softer and cozier than it ever had. All I wanted to do was curl into a happy ball and doze off, but I blinked the sleep away knowing that staying awake would somehow feel much better than drifting off.

I had a brilliant Saturday that stretched on for 22 hours. But somehow, the best part of my day were those minutes spent lying awake in bed, at an absurdly early hour, without knowing what lay ahead and yet, waiting for it all to unfold. 

Sunday, November 06, 2011

Ah well.

I try to tell myself the realities of life but my body just refuses to listen and my heart ignores me completely.

My head seems to agree with me sometimes, but that counts for nothing.

Friday, September 30, 2011


It's not too difficult to find Truth. He's a little evasive but not impossible to seek out. All you need is a little patience that never runs out.The hard part comes in when Truth turns up at your doorstep stark naked, slaps you across the face and then asks you for a cup of tea because you'd gone out of your way to meet him the last time he showed up at someone else's doorstep. You know he's there to stay and there's nothing you can do but accept it. Whoever said Ignorance is bliss probably said it only after he saw Truth in the shower with his wife. 

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Goldilocks And The Three Beers!

The story of Goldilocks has been told and retold and has suffered various misconceptions along the way. Of course, you’ve heard the version where a blonde girl drank some porridge and hung out with a family of bears. BUT that is not the truth. Goldilocks was a boy and his hair, was black.

Once upon a time, there lived a little boy whose skills far exceeded those of others in his little village. You see, he was well versed in the art of manipulating gold and making locks. His talents earned him the name Goldilocks Smith.

On a particularly hot afternoon on his way back from work, he came upon a little hut with little windows which he peered through to find a little table on which lay three big bottles of beer. Feeling particularly drained, exhausted and tempted, he knocked on the door of the little hut. Since he received no answer, he pushed the door and found it to be open.

The house seemed deserted and the beers seemed inviting, so he helped himself after deciding that he would explain his intrusion into their fine home once the owners returned. In his thirst, he drained the three bottles in quick succession. He staggered around the little hut till he came upon a bed, on which he lowered himself and was soon engulfed in a deep slumber. 

He woke up hours later to find himself in the presence of three hairy, uniformed men who he feared had been eyeing him as he slept. “You are under arrest for breaking and entering, Goldilocks” said the hairiest of the men. Despite Goldilocks’ attempts to explain himself and his demands to see his lawyer, his case was promptly filed and he was soon carted off to the village prison.

Here, he was shoved into a cell with big burly men who had tattooed arms and faces. After a few hours of eyeing him, one of the tattooed men asked Goldilocks the question that would change his life forever. “What’s your name, Sunshine?”

Moral: Never give a boy an effeminate name.

Goldilocks remained in prison for three weeks. He was released by the state post the Human Rights protest staged for his cause. He now leads a quiet life in the northern part of his village under the name Powers Boothe. 

Monday, August 08, 2011