Sunday, July 20, 2014


It was darker than usual that evening.  The sky was covered with clouds which threatened to open up to rains any moment.  All eyes looked up to the sky with hopeful eyes.  The monsoon had been delayed by more than a month.  Soon it started drizzling.  The parched earth soaked up every drop of water that came its way.

Just as I stepped out of office, the drizzle turned into a very heavy rainfall, as if compensating for the lack of rainfall in last few weeks.  Or maybe the rain gods just wanted to see the happiness on everyone's faces.

For someone who isn't really fond of rains (the mud and mosquitoes and other unknown bugs that accompany the rains is not really my idea of fun), I was glad to walked over to my car with the heavy downpour drenching me.  

There were narrow streams of rainwater everywhere which took me back to my childhood where I would make paper boats out of newspapers (heh) and let them sail on the streams.

Of course, now, stepping on those streams is like walking into unchartered territory as you may never know which dead creature you may be stepping on.

As I walked towards my car, I suddenly felt I stepped on an unfamiliar surface.  It took me a while to register that my right foot was on the road and I was not wearing my flipflops (black converse, in case you were curious).  My first reaction was to call ACP Pradyuman to solve the mystery of my missing chappal, but then quickly dismissed it when I realised Dr. Salunkhe may be called to take my x-ray or some such exotic test.

As if adding to the mystery, the streetlights went off.  Only that there were no streetlights there to begin with.  I realised later that there are no streetlights in the street.  But unless you are trying to find something in the dark you don't realise there is no source of light normally in that place.

I was desperate and stood still for the fear of stepping on to an unknown animal poop with no protective gear on my feet. (#funfact: I once stepped onto a cow poo and till date no one in office knows my feet were the source of the intoxicating smell that filled the dingy little room)

And then, like a saviour, a car with high beams on approached from the opposite side.  And like a deer caught in headlights, I froze.  Because 20 feet away, my flipflops were floating away to glory, like Titanic on her maiden (and only) journey. (wait, is it okay to make light of tragedies that happened over a century ago?)

But it was still good 20 feet away.  How I wish I were Deepika Padukone and could reach my flipflops with just one lunge.  But it was not meant to be.

There was not a second to waste.  Because every second I stood there, my flipflop was catching speed downstream moving away from me.

That is when I took the leap of faith and prayed to myself (bhagwan hum sab mein baste hai) and walked over and before the crush (no, real life crush, whose name I don't know) could see what happened.  Not that he was around anyway.  But why take a chance?

So kids, always be careful when you get nostalgic when you become adults, okay?  #ProTip

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Marriage - Divorce - Remarriage

I have a problem.  With the society at large.

The society which encourages people to stay in an abusive relationship because even now, even in the urban educated youth, 'divorce is the "kaala dhabba" in the family's name'.

The society which worries, that two people, who have no love, no respect for each other, and where one is abusive towards the other, should remain married because, "who will remarry them if they get divorced?"

The society which thinks that a woman who gets divorced will only be able to get married to a guy who is a divorced man himself.  Because 'it is difficult otherwise.'

The society where divorce still is someone's 'fault' and not lack of compatibility. (no, not talking about the abusive partner here) because really, if the person is educated, has good job, earns well, how does compatibility matter?

This society which I talk of is made up of well qualified individuals.

I have seen family and friends from close counters who have gone through the divorce ordeal.  It is not easy. And really, sometimes, it is just two people who fell irrevocably out of love.  Why should you deny someone another chance to find love only because "society" thinks so?

The other day my sister was insisting I create a matrimonial profile.  Because while I want to believe in a You've Got Mail love story, she is more realistic about life.  So she has taken upon herself to find me a groom. (yes, all those interested, kindly get in touch with her). Before she could ask, I told her I am open to marrying someone who has been through divorce.  Not trying to be a moral police here, but why should being a 'divorced' person be someone's identity? Could lack of compatibility not a possibility?

Having said that, it is an individual's will whether he/she wants to marry someone who's divorced.  My problem is with the society, who thinks a divorced person only 'deserves' another divorced person to marry. Thereby discriminating against them.

I have come across men (and women) who have been through divorce and they are the loveliest people, and men (and women) who have never been married before and are such jerks that I don't think I could spend the rest of my life with them.

I am not sure if it is rest of India problem or only the Gujarati chauvinist community which produces such gems who think too highly of themselves and consider themselves the purest forms of beings but I feel we have a long way to go.

A very long way.

Sunday, June 22, 2014


Have you ever wondered if your black is the same as my black? Or your taste of sugar is the same as mine?

We all agree sugar tastes sweet, but is your sweet the same as mine? What if it tastes salty to you, but for you, every sweet thing you ate has been salty, but you have just grown up believing that salty is actually sweet and hence you never realised.

What if the red I see is different from the red you see? Maybe both of us see the same red, but different shades? What if what is red to me is actually blue to you but you have always known what you see as blue as red and hence even though we are seeing the same stuff, we are actually seeing different stuffs but are never realising shit like that.

Similarly smell, touch and hearing. Are we all in sync here?

What if you see something else written here, but are able to comprehend because your brain was trained to comprehend it that way.

Doesn't it ever freak you out?

I sometimes do. Especially when I tell people that some people blink loudly. I mean, you cannot hear them, but they blink it so loudly, you can hear them.

And there are times when I think I could taste colours. Not really taste them, but sometimes I think that if I could taste them, some colours would taste and smell like that. 

I think orange would taste bitter.  That is the only colour I have figured out the taste of. 

Maybe I should just go sleep.

The entity reading this as I type this also wants me to sleep so it can stare at me as I sleep.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Missed Connection: The world needs more of these

I am an eternal romantic.  Pathetic one too.

I would like to blame it on the Yash Chopra and Karan Johar movies I grew up watching, for my misplaced sense of love and romance and happily ever after.  But then, if watching violent movies don't make you a murderer, watching rom-coms shouldn't make you a pathetic romantic loser, no?

Is being romantic bad? Is it bad that I have hopes that some day I will come across someone who will truly, madly, deeply fall in love with me?  Is it wrong to be hopeful?

Especially when you know where your flaws are. I know I am not the kind of person guys fall in love with.  I am not pretty, wear sexy clothes, updated with fashion trends.

I wear loose simple cotton clothes, and most of the times, footwear which is more comfortable than trendy. I carry a backpack around. I am more likely to be found sitting alone in a cafe than partying with a bunch of friends. (mostly because I live in Gujarat where the only place you can possibly party is also cafes. Also because I don't have a lot of friends.)

One time this guy was drinking black coffee by himself at Zen cafe (yes, that's my favourite, in case you haven't figured it out yet). He was just sitting there. Possibly waiting for his friends.  Where we looked at each other. Locked eyes, and then I looked away. Because.

A friend joined me in few minutes and he was still sitting there, sipping his coffee, casually glancing towards me.  Extremely strong peripheral vision. I glanced back too. Because that's what I do when I get conscious. 

Few minutes later, his friends (presumably) joined him.  A chatty bunch they are. Cacophony of sounds, including the whiniest voice emerged from that corner.  This guy is still the quietest one.  He probably came in early to soak in the silence before the noise comes in.  From the corner of my eye I can still glance towards me every few minutes.

Few minutes later the bunch of friends left.. I was still there with my friend.. (for someone who claims to be shy and introvert, I do tend to talk a lot) we left in another half an hour.. As we left the cafe, he was still there.. sitting on the concrete bench, right outside the cafe. Just staring into nothingness.

We looked at each other again. This time, a little longer than 2 second gaze.. and this time too, I was the first to look away.

After that day, I have seen him a few times at the same cafe.  But we have never interacted. 

Then for a month I didn't see him.. I didn't give much thought to it. (loljk, I sometimes wondered where he was - I find strangers fascinating)

Then one day I was meeting a friend.. this time, we chose a coffee day outlet near my house (in case you're wondering, Mansi circle - if you ever see me there, come say HI. I don't bite)

As I parked, I had a familiar feeling.. I looked around.. Yes, same guy, almost as surprised to see me there as I was to see him.  As my friend was waiting for me already, I went inside, and now it has been over a month and I've not seen him.

No, I'm not in love with him (though the post starts on love and romance), but the concept of missed connections.  What if there was a reason we were there at the same time?

What if there is a reason to why we come across people.  Is serendipity real?

What if I hadn't followed some people (on twitter, I don't follow people in real life, that's creepy. Internet roxxx) I have met in real life who have become some of my greatest friends?

What if I hadn't replied to some emails?

What if.

I know I may never see the guy at cafe again.  What if I had gathered enough courage to go up and say hi?  Could we have been friends now?

And in a very what-is-the-purpose-of-life style question, what if there is a reason you are reading this blog (other than that I plugged it on Twitter and you just clicked on it because I'm kind of cute)

More than the ifs, the world needs to ask more what ifs, because we truly live only once, and life is too short to think twice when your gut feeling says otherwise.