Chiffonesque

Last movie seen in a theatre? Sirf What book are you reading? Pigs in Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver, Closers by Michael Connelly Favourite board game? Scrabble, Monopoly Favorite Magazine: Vogue, Marie Claire, First City Favorite Smells: Simmering spicy gravy, sea spray, freshly baked bread, a baby’s skin, rain, lemon grass, nutmeg, excellently brewed chai, jasmines, roses and oranges, fresh stationery and ink, Eternity, freshly laundered clothes, mangoes, vanilla essence Favorite Sound: A baby’s gurgle, pattering of little feet, rumbling of a storm, thunder, rain in all its cadences, waterfall, crackling fire Worst Feeling In The World: Pessimism What Is The First Thing You Think Of When You Wake? Things are bound to get better today Favorite Fast Food Places : Le Café, Chembur; The Bagel Shop, Bandra; Mocha, everywhere; Bembos, Mulund Future Child’s Name: Aria Finish This Statement. “If I Had A Lot Of Money I’d…” Travel….incessantly Do You Drive Fast? No. I’m really careful. Do You Sl...

It's 2:34 this afternoon and I'm not very sure if I'll be going out any time soon. I would love to, though. I like summers, I like heat, and I love to sweat. When I was learning kickboxing, my instructor had told me that people usually fall ill because they're not gettng rid of the toxic waste in the body. Caffeine and tannine induced headaches, especially, require one to drink a lot of water and go out and sweat it. I don't think I have sweat enough in the last few months. If I get really anxious about my weight, I just do a few rounds of push-ups in my bedroom and think that's enough. Of course, I can't kid myself any longer. I've got to start running. My whole problem is this humungous sloth that envelops me like a wet, sloppy kiss in the mornings. I don't know why, but I just can't seem to get out of bed. In fact, the last week, it's been so busy at work that I've felt all sorts of knots moving up and down my back, while comfortably c...

I’m looking at my nails now. They look like steam. White and brown, live and dead- like an opaque barrier between what is and what could be. At the end of my fingers are crusty crescents of a stale star. In the ambit of possibility, where does beyond begin?

One evening at Bembos, over Argentinean burgers and black coffee, a friend postulated on the sundry failure of relationships. She believes that people are too impatient and immature to actually invest time and energy into something. From professional initiatives to health resolutions to personal choices, they expect instant results. They can’t focus on a bigger vision, so they feel slighted by every little thing that doesn’t go their way. They opt out too quickly. It’s a fact of life that things change with time, but no-one’s willing to give the time. “They are just so keen to move on”, she said. “It’s sad, really…nothing matters…people just move on.” Now, given my experiences, I too have wondered about this – whether I opt out of things too quickly or whether I stay stuck in them longer than is healthy. But the way I see it, the problem is definitely not moving on. If anything, I think that people do not move on. They stay stuck. And that is the problem. Like, if you have not got at...

Read this in a book now: Bird alone, flying high Flying througha clouded sky Sending mournful, soulful sounds Soaring over troubled grounds - Words from a song by Abbey Lincoln

A while ago, I wanted to read something airy and light. A friend of mine loaned me Hester Browne’s ‘The Little Lady Agency’ – a book written in tradition of most chic-lit capers and Hollywood rom-coms. I enjoyed it immensely, though. Possibly because I pored over it during my favorite times of the day– on the bed on lazy weekends, with strong tea over breakfast, with a bag of chips during some free time in office, in the autorickshaw on a pleasant morning, in a long bus ride. But even without such temporal, culinary and lifestyle accoutrements, the book was a nice, breezy read. The book is about this girl, Melissa, who can’t seem to get a break in life. She comes from a moneyed but embarrassing family. Her father is a local MP with an armoire full of scandals. In fact, Melissa has spent most of her school years dodging her way through her father’s colorful escapades. He’s the sort of parent who feeds off his children’s inadequacies and prides himself on being judgmental and critical. H...

Soon it will be far away Buried in a blanket of noise - Spring fetes on beaches And bike rides with the boys Soon it will be close enough A scented breath away - Ships on the horizon And wild storms underway Time passes on like essence Of watery translated runes And the residue of eternal truths Shines with the brittle epigraphs of ‘soons’

It was my birthday yesterday and Time just, sort of, inhaled that day out of my life. It began suddenly and ended abruptly, with a million things happening at work, missing so many calls, attending so many more, and finally finishing up and reaching home at midnight. What was really nice was getting a call from my cousin’s fiancé. Last year, there were a few people in my life. By this year, they have exited and made place for new ones. I really like this dynamism of the circle of life. I have a little nephew now, who loves having his face splashed with water. I have a new would be sis-in-law who keeps notes of people’s birthdays. I have new little neighbour who chugs watermelon juice every morning while his mum hums a nursery rhyme. I have some really nice colleagues who got me flowers and organized a lovely cake. I don’t particularly like chocolate, but the color of this cake was such a rich, mesmerizing brown. I immediately thought of a beautiful horse with a glossy sheen galloping ...

This was a colleague's tag line today: "Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are." - Brecht Made me think and smile (in that order)

Struggle is such a futile feeling. When one meets people who are ‘struggling’, one gets a sense of wheedling, beseeching neediness. A feeling of lack. A sense of a big gaping black hole that will always be there, no matter how much or what one fills into it. A struggle is an indication of misalignment. It’s the result of grating incongruity. And at the basis of all struggle is a lack of clarity. And lack of clarity means lack of control. I was thinking about all this when I drove my mum and cousin to Mount Mary and back. We started from Vashi around 4 p.m. We sailed over a formidable bridge, with a bright sun glinting over the sea. There was family chatter in the background and some good music on radio. We reached Chembur, and it was easy driving through that area as well. There were a few instances of rickshaws angling to cut lanes and some big Scorpios nipping against my car, but over all, it was okay. There was a glorious stretch on the Bandra flyover where the sky spread like a pan...