• The Wannabe.

    I am afraid of the dark. I once went for a Fancy Dress competition dressed as Cruella de Vil. I cant speak Hindi. My boyfriend / husband is a Punjabi. I used to be stick-thin once. I have a Mallu accent. I smile a lot. Some of my friends call me Niru, the others call me Ninju. I prefer being called Ninju. My favourite poison is San Andre' port wine which costs Rs. 40 a bottle. I want to learn how to swim. I have nice eyes. I have bad teeth. I am self obsessed - check out the size of my self-description. I think everyone in the world is self obsessed. My sister was called Inga when she was a baby. I was deaf for two whole months once. I dont think I believe in God. I'm the laziest person I know. I am technically challenged. My favourite phone is a Nokia 3315. I think I'm very vain. I have an insane number of friends. I am really bad at keeping in touch. I'm largely glad my life turned out the way it did. I have awesome in-laws. I love coffee. Rain is an instant mood-elevator for me. I am highly lacking in common sense. But what I lack in common sense, I make up for by my intelligence :P I am not always known to be modest. I want to travel a lot. I wish I was born with model-looks. I'm quite shallow. I always type messages on my phone with the dictionary off. I am a chocoholic. I'm a foodie. I love the good things in life. I am a really bad dancer. I've learnt Bharatanatyam and Carnatic music for 3 years. I am a very jealous girlfriend / wife. I am mostly happy.I like ending paragraphs with....

Appappa

I miss you. I miss the mischievous glint in your eye. I miss the way your eyes crinkled up when you smiled that cute smile of yours . I miss your smell. I miss the loud way you would kiss me. I miss the way you call out to me as “Kunju – the little one”. I miss the little white lies you loved to tell everyone. I miss your quiet, slow ways. I miss my MTV and Betty Boop tshirts that you loved to wear.  I miss the tiny wrinkles across your face. I miss sleeping next to you. I miss the way you used to “steal” coconuts from the fridge in the night, scrape them out with your knife and eat quietly hoping you wouldnt be caught. I miss the way you used to laugh at your own jokes. I miss the way your big tummy would shake as you laughed. I miss you. Very much. And I love you though I never told you just how much.

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White Paper

Newness. Craziness. Opinions. Uncharacteristically impulsive decisions. Hope. Joy. Relief.  Freedom. Short-lived. Want to dance for the joy of it. Some miniscule regrets. Greenbacks. Less of them. Wondering what that means to my life. Working from home. Grumpy. Smiles. Everyday. Love.  The Big Chill. No more “local” journeys. Delhi. New. Learning how to pronounce “Gurgaon” correctly. A heart that leaps every three minutes. Farewell Emails.  Nervousness. Nail-biting. Wondering what the future has in store. Disbelief. From others. Why. What about the 5 lakh year-end bonus. Screw the 5 lakh year-end bonus. It’s paper after all. What the fuck is competency modelling. Oh shit, I havent taken MCCD. Will I like it? Small fish, big pond. Big fish, small pond. Cliché after cliché after cliché. Big fish, Big pond. Small fish, Small pond. Blue fish in a white pond. Blue fish can’t fit in in a white pond. Blue fish leaps out. Hopefully, blue fish wont die. Grey, grey, grey hairs. Black and white minds. Frogs LEAPing from the big white pond. Look before you LEAP. Laughter. Big brown cardboard boxes. Stuffed with clothes. Endless packing. Booking flight tickets.  The big black suitcase filled to the brim yet again. Yet another journey. Into the unknown.

Why I am lucky to have The Tubby One.

Refer to the post Lucky Bitch below.

The Tubby One is the awesomest hubby ever. (Tubby Hubby …wink, wink, nudge, nudge..get it? get it???) Yeah, yeah – I’m totally great at alliterative humour.

Here are a few reasons why the Tubby Hubby (TH) zimply rocks:

1. TH is not a Tam-Brahm.

2. TH is not an IIT-ian

3. TH is not a Double-MS from the University of Philadelphia

4. TH does not work for Texas Instruments. Or Microsoft.

5. I cant make tea. Or Maggi. Or anything else even remotely edible. TH loves cooking. And TH makes awesome pasta.

6. I love olives. TH hates olives. ( cough, cough! Yeah, yeah, we all get the HIMYM reference)

7. Both TH and me are foodies.

8. I think TH is intelligent. TH thinks I am *cough, cough* intelligent.

9. I am getting a tattoo from Goa. A weird one. On my shoulder. And TH is okay with it. In fact, he helped me choose the design.

10. I cant dance for nuts. TH cant dance for nuts.

11. I get drunk easily. TH dosent get drunk very easily. (OK Guys, let’s forget the Banana Club story for now 😛 )

12. I like sleeping. TH likes putting me to sleep. (Well, hopefully not in the veterinary sense.)

13. I like shopping. TH likes shopping. (!)

14.  I love me. TH loves me.  What a coincidence.

15. I am highly materialistic. So is TH. Neither of us are in pursuit of the solution to our existential angst. We dont have the time.  We are usually busy in pursuit of Old Monk.

16. I am tone-deaf. TH is an awesome guitarist. (Ehhh?? How does that make sense?)

17. Okay – maybe this sounds better: TH belongs to Bodhi Tree. I belong to Cactus Tree. (matching matching :D)

17. TH is not a Tam-Brahm (Did I mention that before?)

18. TH’s shorts are just long enough to be comfy pyjamas for me.

19. TH thinks that we should go to the nearest zoo to catch a glimpse of a few big hairy “karikkus“. He also thinks we should go to the nearest coconut-seller and buy ourselves two “karadis“. The variety with lots of water inside.

20. TH does not make fun of my mallu accent. Not even when I say Hundaai Saandro.

*to be continued*

The Jigsaw Killer

There was once a huge jigsaw puzzle that I put together piece by piece. It took me long days and weeks to put all the pieces together. When I did, what emerged was a miracle so beautiful, so flawless, that it was almost unbelievable.  It was complete and perfect for the longest time. Until someone decided to dismantle it piece by piece. And then callously threw the entire puzzle on the floor playfully once. Some of the pieces of the puzzle got lost that day.  I didn’t realise they were lost until I started putting all the pieces back together. Again and again I tried. Looking for that complete, perfect picture that had emerged earlier.  Then I saw that the pieces didn’t fit in together any more. Because a few of them had gone missing. And without all the pieces, the jigsaw could never be complete again.

Clichés

Opaque, neverending sheets of rain. Sunny interludes in between. Damp green grass. Startlingly blue skies. Billowy white clouds. Little girls in shocking pink and gold frocks. Tall, swaying coconut trees. A playful breeze that constantly plays hide-and-seek. Bright red “chembarathi” flowers. Shiny foreheads smeared with golden sandalwood paste. Maroon dots on meticulously straight hair partings. Little men effortlessly sliding up tall, tall trees. Glossy black hair with coconut-oil shine. Long beaches with pristine white sand. Old grandmoms with huge gold hoops on their dangling ears. Meandering waterfalls gushing over round rocks. Glassy lakes with silent ripples. Mysterious, misty purple-green hills.  Colourful food on long green banana leaves. Starlit skies without a trace of cloud.  All clichés. All Kerala.

Lucky Bitch.

I think I am unimaginably lucky. I know very few people think that about themselves. But in my life, time and again, I have always, almost eerily, managed to get things that I didn’t really deserve. And it happens with an uncanny frequency. So frequently that it scares me sometimes. I stop and wonder – things cant go on like this for ever. I cant always be this lucky.

Yes – sometimes things go wrong in my life. But these seemingly “wrong” things eventually lead to things so beautiful that I feel thankful in retrospect that the “wrong” things happened when they did.

Yes, it sounds like such a cliché to say that things always happen for a reason. Because they don’t. Bad things often happen to good people. Bad things often happen without anything inherently good eventually coming out of it. But not to me.  I am the Big Guy’s (God or the Noodly one or the Non-Existent one, depending on your perspective) Blue Eyed Baby. Only awesome things happen to me.

Sepia

The past is like a photo in black-and-white. Forgiving.  Always highlighting only the subject’s best features. Cleverly toning down the flaws. Giving a dreamlike aura to the subject. Even the most ordinary things look extraordinarily breathtaking. You look at the black-and-white photo and sigh “Once, I was so beautiful”. You look back at the past longingly and think “Once, things were so beautiful”. You smile. You reminisce. You wish you could go back in time.

The present is like a face on HDTV. The good things are SO alive and complete. The bad things are magnified to ten times their actual monstrosity. And it’s usually the bad things that catch your attention.

As the present fades into the past, the HDTV image dissolves away into a soft focus black-and-white photo. All the horrors that you saw in the present are airbrushed away. You only see the sublime beauty of it all. And you long for the same past that was once the present that you hated.

And the cycle continues..