My papa

My dear, darling Father can make an entire mall collectively shit in their pants. He positively terrorizes hawkers and can be quite gruff with errant waiters. All of this without even realizing what he's done. To begin with, the man can bargain. He can make one of those toughened Sabzi Mandi bargaining bitch women look like unsophisticated amateurs. It probably has something to do with that voice of his. It's a deep baritone, with a ringing clarity to it. It makes matters worse for the salesmen when he addresses them in very courteous language. It's almost like; my father is one of those specimens they warn you about.

He'll also somehow manage to convey the fact that he will walk away with the merchandize for free, in case stipulated terms and conditions are not met. In most cases, you can be sure to meet the manager of the store. He made the CCD chap regret the day he filled out an application form for the job position. I'm past the point of getting embarrassed; I end up giggling hysterically and passing sympathetic looks to the other person.

And once all the terrorizing is over, we get great deals and freebies. He's fun.

#Lesson for today: My papa can be awesome.


Oh Shyt.

I just saw some women being turned on and suitably seduced by Mithun Da sucking on her leg.

And then I saw Ravi Behl being turned on and suitably seduced by the ugliest of them village-not-so-belles.

I may never be able to regain my ability to be sexually excited again.

#Lesson for today: Avoid such movies. They ruin sex lives.


The thing is..

I hate Diwali. Totally & Absolutely do.

Bloody Noise. Bloody Pollution. Bloody Irritating TV Specials.

I am cranky every single Diwali and have not broken the tradition this year. I shall be extremely thankful when this entire festivity ends. I miss pathos and general suffering. Even the terrorists ditched me this time around.

Still, I'll be nice for once.

Hope all of you have a wonderful day.


Things I thought I should be done with by the time I turned 19:

[x] Fallen in Love with Mr. Darcy again

[x] Done something inexplicably stupid

[x] Develop my own brand of humour and quirk

[x] Grossed 200 people out with a single sentence

[x] Had a "I was so close to Death" story

[x] Had a 'when I was your age' conversation with somebody two years younger to me

[x] Been obsessed with random pop culture

[x] Ripped apart boy band posters

[x] Randomly mutilate my eyebrows

[x] Fallen in Love

[x] Burnt somebody's hair

[x] Etch out a day-to-day existence on acerbic wit, satirical humour and higher intellect. (xkcd, cyanide & happiness, daisy owl and batman)

[x] Quoted internet humour

[x] Done/Watched something nerdy (Star Trek, Halo 3)

[x] Played on an Xbox 360 and PSP

[x] Looked simply stop-eating-food-gorgeous.

[x] Done something so girly that testosterone ran away screaming from my body

[ ] Being awarded the Nobel.

Sigh, I feel like such a failure. But, if they can give to Obama then I wonder.

#Lesson for today: There is always that one thing in life you can't achieve in time. Acceptance comes gradually.


King Juuuuulian.

Yeah Yeah. So I wanna sing this song all day & all night long.

#Lesson for today: Lemurs is where the fun's at.



Today I look at you, with a claim to be fine that you love another woman. You take a step back and say with all the confidence in the world, "We'll be fine, I'll always love you". You make a motion to hug me, but I move back. Part fear and part lust compels me to stay away. Sometimes distance is the only cure we seek.

As the rain works its way down my hair, I recall with clarity the day. Our first kiss, the first embrace after what seems like forever. The first admission of reality. This silence has not been easy on either of us. You chide me for what I start to explain, you know all of it already. I come as no surprise, just relief. Welcome peace and relief.

With the dance of the morning rays comes a new problem for us. She still exists, even if miles away. You stand nearer than before but I choose to blur your face. You don't take to being forgotten kindly. We smile, we laugh and we pretend like everything is the same as it was before. The only difference is that once we desired and now it has been reduced to an I. You'll always have her by your side while I love from afar, playing back the moments in my mind.

No my darling, it wasn't a mistake. You were conscious of every movement of the wind. Me of my place right by your side. It was meant to be, I'd once announced. How restless you had been. A lover, a friend, a spare soul sometimes even. But now, months have passed. Kisses forgotten, languid love songs exchanged and hummed into the night. Flirtatious giggles have dissolved in a sudden, singular tear.

Today I decide to let you go. Make sure you never mean more to me than my best friend, no strings attached.

And today you show me why you claim to be mean. You make it impossible to give it up. You refuse to be given up.


I confess..

I have a thing for men with:
~ sarcastic natures
~ commitment issues
~ 'a quality' that makes everybody perceive them as gay and
~ careless, rude, self-effacing yet charming demeanours.
(or Chandler Bing, Jane Austen/Bronte Sisters/Georgette Heyer's male characters and Oscar Wilde)

Off late, this has been extended to serial killers based in Miami, Florida.

There, can I have my perfect man now?

#Lesson for today: Yes, mother was perfectly right in being extremely worried about my taste in men.